Country Lass: Adventures
by Created to Write
Summary: After gaining the super serum and saving her family, Heather's life is made up of missions, training, living with the Avengers, and the occasional prank on the resident egocentric billionaire genius. (Mostly rater K , but rated T overall for fight scenes) More characters than listed.
1. Episode 1- Part One

**Hey everybody! Guess who's back?**

 **Heather's back, oh yeah! Sorry it took me so long. I was writing outlines, then I had to write the first chapter. And now I'm ready.**

 **This story is not the same as her Origin (Country Lass). If her origin was a 'movie' this would be considered a 'tv show'. The chapters have some 'part 1 part 2' bits, but it doesn't lead into each one every time. This picks up a few days after the end of her last story.**

 **I am also not going on a schedule with this one. I have other stories I need to work on too. (Next story for Tsuma series, A Turtle's Heart, and a new Lab Rats story/s I may or may not upload.)**

 **Without further ado (because she doesn't really need it) Heather Claire Morse, aka, the super soldier Country Lass!**

* * *

Heather's POV

I look over the rubble of what remains of a wall, the lenses of my mask tainted a slight green for night vision. Hydra soldiers cover the courtyard around me, blocking every exit and on constant alert for me and the team.

"Country Lass," I hear from my comm. I sit back and press the button on my glove to tell Steve to continue. "You need to get back to the Quinjet."

"I'm pinned," I admit, "there's no way out," I add as I look over the wall again with one eye.

"Take a deep breath and look at your surroundings. You're still there, so there is still a way," he coaches. I nod and look around again. There's an opening to my right. But multiple soldiers are in my way.

One walks over to where I'm sitting, just on the other side of the wall. I hold my breath, my back to the brick. He starts to look over the wall. I pull him over by his shoulder and knock him out. "Over there!" Another soldier states.

"Get to the jet!" Steve orders via comm. I vault over the three foot brick obstacle and sprint to the opening. I feel a sharp bite in my side, but ignore it. I pass through the hole and see the Quinjet in the distance, hidden in the trees.

A whistle pulls my attention from my destination. I look up, still running, and see a missile.. headed straight for the Quinjet. "No-no _no_!" I yell. But it has no effect. The missile hits the vehicle, becoming a mass of twisted and burnt metal.

I stop running and stare for a split second. But that second feels like forever. I then look down at my side to inspect what the bite was. I was shot, but it's just a grazing due to my protective blue and red uniform. I turn around and see a soldier behind me. I toss my shield at him. It returns just in time for me to turn one-eighty degrees and clock another soldier. They both are on the ground when I notice the other soldiers firing on me from both the turrets of what must have been an old castle and the ground.

'There has to be a way out,' I reassure myself, putting my vibranium shield between me and the bullets. 'There has to.' I place the comm on my glove next to my mouth. "Cap! You there!" I yell over the rain of enemy metal. I get no answer. I was hoping he wasn't on the Quinjet when it blew.

I look to my right again and see an enemy plane. I wait for the bullets to cease, meaning they have to reload, and I sprint to the plane. A couple soldiers rush to me, but they hardly slow me down. I jump into the cockpit and close the hatch.

All the buttons are labelled in a foreign language. "Really?" I ask no one in particular. "Okay.. it looks kinda like the Quinjet controls. Let's see.." I press a few buttons and the engine starts up soon after.

I fiddle with the steering controls and start backing the hunk of metal up to get to the runway. But then bullets start pelting the hull.

"Seriously? _Now_ they start to shoot again?" The plane sustains damage, but I have to take off _now_. I start the takeoff procedure.

"Error," the plane says, "not correct code." Then beeping slowly fills the cockpit. Numbers flash on one of the dials.

'Ten, nine, eight- oh no.' The release on either side is stuck. I push on the hatch, but it won't open. I am not going out like this. I take off my shield and slam it into the glass above me. It shatters and I climb out. 'Three, two, one-' I jump off the front of the plane before it takes me with the self destruct.

I hit the runway. My landing is sloppy, so my cheek scrapes against the pavement and I twist my leg, which happens to be the one I land on. I stay there a second, then prop myself up on my elbow.

"Stay where you are," a soldier says. I look up; I'm surrounded by Hydra soldiers, guns trained on me. I stare at them defiantly, trying to find a way out, but my shield is outside the circle since I dropped it on my way out of the plane.

* * *

"Program disabling," JARVIS' electronic voice fills the air and my vision starts to pixelate. The dead of night mission becomes the bright training barn at the Ranch. I fall back to the floor, groaning. It was a simulation, none of it really happened.

'But it hurts..' I don't need any reminding, my leg and side are enough.

"That landing was _so_ graceful," I hear Stark state outside my vision.

'Shut up..' I say in my head. I stand up slowly, the throbbing from the simulated injuries still present. "I lasted longer than last time," I tell him.

He's turns as I look at him. "Lasting longer isn't succeeding," he says as he walks to the workshop.

"Well I knew I was in a simulation. So if you want it to feel like a real mission you should fix that," I snark back. Stark disappears down the stairs. I test my leg as Steve walks over. He must have been waiting for our yelling match to be over with.

"You're tense," he notes.

"I just want to be ready for the next mission," I state quickly.

"JARVIS is looking for the next Hydra base. But it may take some time. They like to stay hidden."

"I know," I reply somberly. It took forever to find my family last time. I still have my sim g's on so I jump a few times, testing my leg. The mock pain is gone. "JARVIS, start up the next simulation."

"Ignore that order," Steve tells him.

"As you wish, Captain Rogers," JARVIS says. I look at Steve.

"You don't need to push yourself," he tells me. I don't meet his eye.

I'm glistening with the last couple hours of training, I can feel exhaustion start to kick in. I do kinda need a break. But I can't allow that. I need to be ready. The first mission went easier than it should, they didn't see us coming. But they will next time.

"Heather," Steve says calmly. I look up. "Remember what I told you before. Don't sacrifice yourself for the soldier. You'll be ready." It's almost like he read my mind.

I sigh and take off the glasses. "Okay.." I state, losing the argument. I walk over to the Sim and put the blue glasses in their respective spot on the display stand. "But what should I do now? It's not like there are a lot of options."

"Well, Sam and I are going up the mountains when he comes back from D.C. You could come with," Steve suggests.

I think about this. Fresh air? Open space? Nature? Quiet? "How long would we be up there?"

"Probably all day," he says, "we want to scout out what's up there."

I beam, "Why not?"

* * *

 **Part two will come out tomorrow.**

 **R &R, please!**

 **I DO NOT OWN MARVEL! But don't take Heather. *holds character close* She's my innocent baby OC that I protect with my pen..**

 **~CtW**


	2. Episode 1- Part Two

**Here's the second part of the first 'episode.' That is what I'm calling the stories in this.**

 **I do not own Marvel. But Heather is the OC that I have created with the God given talent that is writing.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

3rd POV

Heather puts on her backpack and secures the strap that goes across her chest. It holds her supper, rope, spare clothes, a flashlight, and a book. 'Hiking trail, here I come,' Heather says, ready to go into the outdoors.

She walks down the stairs. Steve and Sam are waiting for her. "Ready to go?" Steve asks. Heather nods, eager. "Alright."

They exit the house and start to the tree line. When the enter the trail, Steve stays in front and Heather and Sam trek behind him. The trail is a little muddy and the mid morning air holds a dewey musk to it.

And Heather loves every moment of it. They reach a more dry stretch of the trail and Heather feels restricted by having to walk behind Steve. "Can you go a little faster Steve?" She asks. She doesn't wait for him to reply and leaps to a tree trunk, then redirects herself back to the trail. She lands in front of him and starts going at her own pace.

"Heather careful," Steve says, "it's still slippery." Heather leaps over rocks and her feet almost dance as she goes up the trail. She reaches the base of the mountain, where the area starts to get more rocky and has less trees. Heather stops and waits for the other two, who are climbing at their own pace.

When the reach her, she starts up again, and soon she's barely in their line of sight. Steve sighs, watching her. "I thought you said this would be relaxing," Sam states behind him, amused.

"I just don't want her to get hurt," Steve says. The trail had taken a more rocky appearance and Heather had accepted the challenge. They hear Heather chuckling from around the corner, about something they can't see. "I'm just happy she isn't weighed down by the mission, with her family and everything a few days ago. It was really hard on her to leave."

Heather stops at an outcrop, looking out at how far they've come. She can see a vast horizon, above the treetops. She just stands there and takes it all in, the wind brushing along her neck and cheeks.

"Heather, you coming?" Heather turns around, where Sam is waiting farther along the trail. She nods and he lets her step in front of him. She goes slower, because they are right next to the edge. Then Steve stops at where the trail morphs into a steep rock cliff with a vertical wall to their left.

"Step carefully," he tells them, mainly to Heather. He goes forward, his back to the wall and toes pointing at the open space. Heather and Sam mimic him, keeping their hands on the wall behind them. Heather's foot hits a loose rock and it tumbles down the cliff below them.

The rock's impact on the surface causes Steve to look down. Suddenly, the tan rock and green trees that dot the area become snowy white. The wind is whipping passed his face, biting at his skin. The rock becomes metal as he tightens his grip. " _AHHhhhhh….!"_ Bucky flails to grab hold of anything, but all there is near him is air.

"Steve!" Steve looks up. It's warm. It's bright. There's rock under his feet. Sam and Heather are looking at him, unable to continue moving because he stopped. "You alright?" Heather asks. Steve takes a deep breath.

"Yeah, let's keep going." Heather looks back at Sam as Steve takes another step. They both know that he's lying.

* * *

After several more hours and a few quick breaks, they arrive at a large pool amid huge flat rocks. It's lined with a thick crescent of trees to the North and a vast view of the horizon to the South.

Heather sits down and takes off her backpack on a rock of her choosing. She takes out her sandwich and thermos of milk and starts to eat. She looks up between slow bites to watch the sun set.

Steve and Sam stay on the East side of the pool, where the trail originates. "Steve," Sam says, "you want to tell me what happened at the cliff?" He had waited until they were out of earshot from Heather, so Steve would be more comfortable with talking.

"Sam I don't-" He sees the look Sam is giving him.

"I know the look when PTSD kicks in," Sam states, "I worked at the VA, remember?"

Steve sighs, "..For a moment, just a moment, I saw Buck. He fell again, right before me. It was like I was back on the train.." Sam puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and they are silent a moment, remembering both of their best friends.

"We'll find him," Sam says firmly.

"..Let's find another way down tomorrow. I don't think it'll be safe going back the other way."

"Wait, we're staying the night?" Heather asks. They look up. She's still sitting on her rock, a good twenty meters away.

"Yep," Sam says to her. Heather beams and then leans back so she can look at the stars as they slowly come out from under the darkening red and purple sky.

Steve realizes that she had overheard their conversation. Sam pats his shoulder again and then sits next to Heather to look at the stars. Steve walks over as well and takes out his own food.

Heather looks at Steve a moment. She had heard their conversation. She decides to not say anything about what he said. It isn't her business and Sam would be able to help Steve more than she could.

"Are you going to be okay with sleeping on rocks, Heather?" Sam states.

"Oh yeah," Heather says, brushing off the comment, "I may not be a veteran, but I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" Sam presses.

"Yeah," Heather states, getting into a comfortable position with her arm curled under her head, "I've fallen asleep on hay bales in the barn before. This is nothing."

The men finally finish their supper and go to sleep as well. But Heather can't. She was being a little arrogant about being able to sleep on solid rock. She tries to stay as still as possible, but eventually, she has to fidget to find a better position.

'There..' she tells herself. But a few minutes later, she finds she can't sleep, so she adjusts again. After the third time fidgeting, she hears snickering behind her. Heather turns onto her back and Sam is smirking in his sleep.

Steve is faced away from her on a nearby rock, but he no doubt has the same smile on his face. He was the one to quietly snigger. Heather rolls her eyes and lays back down, determined to actually sleep.

* * *

Steve wakes up to a large splash. He sits up straight and looks around. There is a distortion in the pool behind him. Ripples come from a center point. He looks to his right and Sam is asleep. But Heather is no where to be seen. The sun is barely over the horizon, the golden red rays peaking through the trees to the East.

"Heather?" Steve asks, noticing more clearly that Heather is not at her backpack. Steve stands up and looks around again, frantic.

"What's wrong..?" Sam groans. Steve turns and looks at his friend as he stands up, too, rubbing his eyes.

Just then, the water behind them moves again. Steve whips his head around and sees Heather's head and shoulders peeping out of the water, near the center of the pool. "I really should have brought a timer!" She yells to them, catching her breath, "I can really hold my breath now!"

"Heather!" Steve says, relaxing, "You scared me! Don't disappear like that!"

"Sorry," she says as she starts to swim back. "The water looked refreshing." She climbs out of the pool wearing her deep blue and white swimsuit.

"When'd you change?" Sam asks.

"I wore it during the hike, in case we found water. And look at that," Heather says, turning around, "water."

"I take it you slept well?" Sam asks, "You've got a lot of energy for the morning." Both of the veterans are still waking up, since Steve's worried adrenaline has worn off after Heather resurfaced.

"Must be the effect nature has on me," Heather shrugs, grinning. She starts wringing her hair out, "Fresh air does wonders, you know." They all sit down for breakfast, which Steve was smart enough to pack for the unknowing teen.

The sun rises, brightening the world around them. Steve looks out at the horizon, which is just as breathtaking as the day before.

"So.." Heather asks between bites, "how long... will we... be up here.."

"Another hour," Sam says casually.

Heather immediately inhales the rest of her food and sprints back to the water. She steps off the rock at the very edge, flips a few times, and nose dives into the deep part of the pool.

Sam looks at Steve, "She doesn't like sitting still, does she?"

"No she doesn't," Steve chuckles.

"She isn't going to pass me in jogging, is she?" Sam inquires.

Before Steve can answer, Heather resurfaces again. "Are you two going to sit on your butts all day!?" She calls out while treading water.

Sam turns back to her. "How's the water?" He asks.

Heather smiles and somersaults back under. Sam chuckles and stands up. He walks over to the water, shrugging off his shirt.

Steve takes out a comm. "Any need to come back early?" He asks, just in case.

He only has to listen to a second of static before Natasha's voice comes through, "Relax and have fun, Steve. Stop worrying." He puts away the comm and looks back at the pair in the water.

Sam is climbing up the rock face to the West, which Heather is positioned above him on a ledge. But he loses his grip and tumbles into the water, making a huge splash. Heather sees Steve watching.

"I'm the queen of the pool!" Heather teases, "And there's nothin' you peasants can do about it!" She says, grinning. Steve chuckles, ducking his head. Then he stands up, accepting her challenge.

* * *

 **I said they would go to the mountains, so they went up to the mountains.**

 **It's unclear when I'll write the next one, but I have, like, 18 outlined. So it's just a matter of if I feel like writing them out.**

 **But I have a question..**

 **Who wants me to start working on Donnie's Tsuma story before summer?**

 **R &R!**

 **~CtW**


	3. Episode 2- Part One

**I'm back everybody! I got the next two done (and as you see in the chapter title, it's a part one part two thing again. ..It got long.)**

 **I still don't own Marvel. But any little kids, that may or may not have a few names of people I know, in this chapter are all mine.  
And Heather. And her ****sibl- I'VE SAID TO MUCH!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

3rd POV

Most of the team is mingling around in the House. Tony walks out of the meeting room. "Avengers, and Heather," he motions to her after a brief pause.

Heather crosses her arms from her spot on the couch. She's not entirely offended at her disclusion, but shows her contempt she does feel nonetheless.

"If you would come into the meeting room," Tony continues and leaves the way he came. Everyone looks at each other, then follows him. Everyone picks a spot, either to stand or, like the majority, to sit in the many chairs.

When he has everyone's attention, he takes a dull gray flip phone out of a bucket and holds it aloft, like the monkey did with Simba in the Lion King movie. There's a long expanse of silence that Clint eventually breaks, "Congrats Stark, you made a dumb phone." His words were heavy with sarcasm.

Tony directs his gaze from the phone to the archer, unamused in the slightest. "For that comment, you will get yours last," he says.

"Get what last?" Steve asks.

"This!" Tony says with excitement, holding the phone aloft again.

"I have to agree with Clint on this," Heather states, "not that impressive. And this is you we're talking about."

"Thank you for volunteering Heather, come on up," Tony says, motioning to the front. Heather stands up and goes to the front of the room. "Pick a phone."

Heather looks in the bucket. They are all identical in color and size. She selects one at random. "Here."

"Turn it on." Heather flips it open, but there is no on button.

"Is this some kind of joke?" She asks. Tony shakes his head, grinning. He takes the phone from her and directs her to the machine to the right side of the front. It has three openings in it. She is instructed to put her hands, palms down. Tony opens the door of the last opening, which is on the opposite side of the machine from Heather. He puts the phone inside, open, and closes the door, like to a microwave.

"Now for consistencies sake, I'm not going to let you choose the color," he says, pressing buttons on the side.

"What?" Heather asks. The machine starts up. A light first scans her hands. It tingles a tiny bit. Then the same light appears on the other side, pulsing along with a constant beep. Heather connects the sound to when a bus is backing up.

When it stops, Tony opens the door and takes the phone out with tongs. It is now a brilliant blue. Heather takes her hands out of the machine. The inventor tests the surface and deems it dry enough to touch. He hands it to Heather.

"Now turn it on." Heather looks at him skeptically. She flips the phone open. It instantly lights up. "Hand it back." She gives it to him, still open. It shuts down the moment it leaves her hand. Tony tosses it back and Heather catches it. The phone turns on again.

"..How..?" She asks, looking at the phone.

"Biometric sensing technology in the paint," Tony explains with an obvious sense of pride, "I scanned your hand and imprinted it into the phone's memory. So only you can turn it on."

"What if someone gets my fingerprint?" Heather asks.

Tony chuckles, like her question is absurd. "It doesn't just look for your handprint. They would need your entire hand; scars, handprint, bone structure. It checks for blood flow, so if you are unconscious, or you lose your hand, it won't turn on."

"..Cool," Heather states, "What can I do with it? Other than call?" Tony gives her a brief run through as other Avengers pick out a phone.

"Looks like you can call your family now," Sam states. Heather smiles.

"Jarvis, do you know the number of the SHIELD facility?" Heather asks.

"It is already uploaded onto your Avenger phone, Heather," Jarvis says, from the phone. Heather looks down in surprise.

"Did I mention that Jarvis' program is integrated into each phone?" Tony asks. Heather shakes her head. "Huh. Well, there you go, even if you are off the grounds."

Heather remembers what Sam said. "I'll be in my room." She walks out and mounts the steps two at a time.

* * *

"And you said that your family is in the G ward?" Heather groans. She had immediately called the facility that her family is at. But she has been talking to this agent for the past fifteen minutes for a background check on who she is.

"Yes," Heather says, trying to stay calm, "Collin Morse, my dad. Susan Morse, my mom. Andrew Morse, my little brother-"

"What is your brother's middle name?" Agent Heather-doesn't-care asks.

"(middle name)," Heather answers right away. "Leslie (middle name) Morse, my little sister."

After a few more questions, Heather is then allowed to connect to her family. Leslie gets the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey Leslie," Heather says, excitement and sorrow tangled in her voice, "How's my sister?"

"Heather!" Leslie yells. Heather cringes, but smiles. She's glad that Leslie is sounding like herself. "I miss you! Andie does too!"

"How about Mom and Dad?" Heather asks.

"..I haven't seen Mommy and Daddy lately.." Leslie says. Heather realizes that her sister still has a lot to get through. When she's scared, she reverts to her baby voice.

"Well, I'll be visiting you tomorrow, how's that sound?" Heather asks.

"Really?" Leslie asks.

"Yep. I'll even bring my guitar," Heather assures. She talks for a little more and then turns off the phone. 'Now to convince Steve to let me go..'

* * *

Steve and Heather walk down the pristine hallway, an agent in front of them. Neither of the heroes are in uniform, but they have their new Avenger phones for identification. No one else had opted to join them, Sam was busy with a 'special mission' so he couldn't come, and Steve didn't want Heather to go alone.

They are about to turn a corner, but they are stopped by a man in a black trench coat and eyepatch; Nick Fury. "That will be all, Agent Varse," he states coolly. The agent salutes and goes on their way. He eyes the pair, then turns the opposite way. "Follow me."

Heather looks to Steve. He glares at the spy's back for a second, then complies. Heather keeps up with him, step by step. They walk into a lab deep in the compound. "What's this about?" Steve says, "we only came here to see her family."

Nick turns around. He sees both super soldiers are apprehensive about being taken from their mission. "I thought you would like to know the motive of Hydra's kidnappings," he states. Heather tenses up.

"What are they?" She asks.

Nick turns around, "The refugees of the compound you invaded are being examined more thoroughly since they arrived here. With the sheer number, it has taken awhile to find patterns-"

"You didn't answer my question," Heather grinds out, "This is my family you are keeping me from. The last people to try that were Hydra."

Nick turns to look at her, "The motive was they needed lab rats to experiment on. To make a.. superior person. Enhanced, if you will."

"Not super soldiers?" Steve asks.

"That could be in the mix. But even though there are no unnatural effects with the subjects you saved, many of the injuries were.. meticulously given."

Heather stares, horrified. She can't imagine the pain her family went through. They had injuries, they were used. "Where is my family?" She asks.

"They are where you found them last time. The children are recovering, safe," Nick states.

"But my mom, my dad," Heather adds, "What about them?"

"Your mother is also in her room. Your father.." Nick looks to the doctor that arrived. "This is Dr. Cho. Your family was put under her care."

"Where is my dad?" Heather asks her.

"Your father is one of the victims that suffered a new stage, that we can see," the doctor states calmly, "he's being monitored for anything unusual. He is safe," she assures. Heather is more than irritated with Hydra. But since she can't do anything for what happened to her family, she gets back to her determination to see them.

"I came here to see my family. I want to see them. Now," she says.

"Miss, you need to calm down first-"

"I didn't want to come here. Take me to my family," Heather says, threatening silently.

Dr. Cho places a gentle hand on her shoulder, "And see them you will. But it would not be good for them to see you all worked up, would it?" She pauses before adding, "Take a few deep breaths, calm down, and then I will take you to see them."

Heather listens to her, knowing she's right. She takes a few deep breaths and calms her nerves down. She can't be stressed around her family. It won't help them.

* * *

 **I forgot that other minor OCs come in part two. ..Oops.**

 **I've brought in enhanced people into this! (Why I'm calling Fury 'Nick' I'm unsure.)**

 **Dr. Cho is in this! Remember her from Age of Ultron? (If you haven't seen the movie, watch it.)**

 **There is a part two. I'll get it up in a few hours, because I am in Chem right now and am also trying to multitask. My test next week will tell me how well I did..**


	4. Episode 2- Part Two

**I guess I'll post it right afterward. It's not too hard! (Chemistry. Chemistry is not that hard. Sorta.)**

 **I don't own Marvel. But little cuties, Heather, and family are all mine. Do not borrow without permission.**

* * *

3rd POV

Steve, Dr. Cho, and Heather walk out of the laboratory and walk along the many halls. The doctor takes them directly to the dorms. Heather remembers where her sister's room is and knocks gently.

"Hello?" Leslie asks from inside.

Heather takes a deep breath and asks, "Song-o-gram for a Leslie Diana Morse?"

The door opens up a moment after. "Heather!" She's attacked by a shorter, younger version of her mother. Leslie is still building herself back to her original strength, so Heather doesn't go toppling over. But it does catch her by surprise.

"Hey sis," Heather says. When Leslie finally lets go, the elder girl kneels down and receives a proper hug. "I brought my guitar, just as I promised."

"Okay!" Leslie pulls her into the room. The stuff Heather brought from home is around and some new drawings are on the white walls. Leslie sits on the bed and Heather sits next to her, sliding her guitar around so it's no longer hanging behind her back.

"What song first?" Heather asks. Leslie instantly has a song in mind and Heather starts to play. She sings at first, but Leslie joins in soon after. The open door reveals Andrew, who had been sleeping when Heather arrived.

Heather pats the bed when the song ends and he climbs up. Slowly, the room fills up with the kids that live in the hallway, all affected by Hydra's treatment. Heather's pity for the children grows, she hadn't realized how many of the rescued victims were underage. And this was a small percentage.

As Heather entertains them with different song requests, some of which she does her best at for the first time, her anger grows in the pit of her gut as well. 'These are _children_! Not science experiments! Hydra has no humanity!'

"Heather..?" Leslie asks.

"Yes?"

"..Do you want to play a game?"

"I want to play!" A kid on the floor asks, a faded blue dress and little brown vest over her thin form.

"Me too! Me too!" A little boy says, his orange hair unkempt in an adorable fashion.

"Can I?" A third asks, toying with the end of her slowly growing braid.

Heather smiles at the kids. "Sure. I think a board game can fit five people?"

"Or we could play this!" Leslie holds up a card game. Some of the kids were called away by caretakers or parents. The three that wanted to play a game don't leave and their caretakers tell Heather they will be back in a half an hour.

Heather sits next to the kids, her siblings joining her. "What are your names and how old are you?" She asks.

"My name is Ashton and I'm nine," the girl with short dark blond hair and the blue dress.

"Justin, ten years old," the boy with the unkempt fiery hair states proudly.

"..I'm.. Maddy, my mommy says I'm six," the final child states, turning her hair around in both her hands. Heather smiles.

"Ashton likes gymnastics," Leslie says excitedly, "there's a gym, Heather! I can't use the beam yet, but when I do, will you watch?"

"Of course," Heather states, "Now let's set up the game. Heather watches as Andrew deals out the cards to everybody in the circle. Heather begins the first round and has to help Maddy with reading her cards.

At this point, Heather realizes how much she's grown. She catches herself correcting the children or breaking up a squabble if someone thinks the other is cheating; much like her mother would. "Heather?" Andrew says, drawing his older sister from her thoughts. "I'm bored. Can you help me with my robot?"

"Sure. You four keep playing," Heather says. She and Andrew stand up and go to his room. Heather is given a tour of how the 'robot' is supposed to move. But Andrew doesn't know how to make it move all on its own, so it is just an action figure of sorts.

A few boys, one of them being Justin, walk into his room, he puts the project away to go be with his new friends. Heather watches fondly and then finds the nearest caretaker. "Where are my parents? The Morse's?" She asks.

The caretaker looks at the pad in her grasp. Heather sees there is a list of names in last name order of all the people in this section. She finds Colin Morse. "Your father should be back from his evaluation," she tells the soldier, "but your mother is sleeping."

"Thank you."

"They are both in need of sleep though," the caretaker tries.

"I will be brief. I need to see him," Heather says, turning away. Heather remembers where his room is and walks down to see him. She walks through the door. He's laying in his bed, the covers tucked around him. The image almost makes Heather cry.

"Heather," Colin says, smiling. Heather sits on a chair next to him, moving it from the desk.

"Hi Daddy," she says. He pats her hand. Heather knows he's only in his forties, but he looks strained, as if the months in the compound have aged him a decade. Heather tries to ignore it.

"My baby girl, so grown up.." he says softly.

"What have you been up to?" Heather asks.

"I was given a few books, other than the ones you brought from..." Both go silent. "..I admit I have been slow to read them. It's been tiring these days."

Heather stands up and finds the book with a bookmark in it. She walks back over to him and cracks it open. She clears her throat and continues where she believes he left off. After she gets to the bottom of the page, a hand is set on her arm. She looks up.

Her father is looking at her, amazed. "..You can read."

Heather smiles. "I can read," she confirms.

Her father mimics her smile. "Well go on. Continue." Heather looks back at the book and continues, finishing the next page, and the two after it.

* * *

Heather walks out of her father's room and closes the door so he can sleep. She turns to walk down the hall, but Nick Fury is standing there, waiting for her. She eyes him carefully. Steve sees her down the hall.

"Hey Cap, can you stay by my siblings?" She asks, giving note to the spy that Steve is still there. She doesn't fully trust him yet. Steve nods, even though he'd rather go with her. Fury motions down the hall and Heather follows him a short ways until they can talk without anyone overhearing.

"The Avengers are still together, I assume," he says, setting his hands behind his back. The hair on the back of Heather's neck stands up straight. She bristles, not liking where this conversation might lead.

"Yeah, they are," she says, a tension in her voice.

"You still think they are the team you need to be on?" Fury asks, "Your family is here. You could protect them. It's been almost half a week and they haven't found another base, have they?"

"Look," Heather says, catching the spy off guard. He looks at her stoically. "I am not one of your agents that you can push around. I am not turning my back on them. They are, complicated at times, but that is what family is."

"They are not a family, they are a danger," Fury states, "Dangers like that are need to keep under a close watch."

"I am part of said group and I'm _not_ going to break their trust." Heather turns around and starts walking back to the dorm.

"But did they say you are an Avenger, officially?" Heather stops in her tracks. She looks over her shoulder just enough to see the tall ex-director of SHIELD out of the corner of her right eye. She then turns her head back and walks away as if nothing happened.

Fury knows that the question hit her hard, and Heather knows he is right. She _isn't_ an Avenger.

Heather walks over to Leslie, who is holding Steve's hand. "Are you leaving?" She asks. Heather picks up her guitar and puts the strap around her shoulder.

"I'm afraid so," Heather answers.

"But why?" Leslie asks. Andrew walks over too, but keeps quiet. "I don't want you to leave!"

"I need to. I have to help other people, like I helped you guys," Heather says, kneeling down. Her sister is taller than when Heather's in that position, so the super soldier looks up at her sister's face. "But look," she says, taking out her phone. "I have this. I'll call every weekend I'm not busy, okay? And you can send me requests for songs and I will send them back after recording them."

"..And you'll visit?" Leslie asks timidly.

"Of course I will," Heather assures.

"..Okay," Leslie says, feeling a bit better. But she's still sad that she won't see her sister everyday. Heather turns to Andrew, waiting for his approval.

"Andie?" She asks, standing up.

He squares his shoulders. "Kick Hydra's butt," he states firmly. Heather salutes.

"I plan to," she says. Andrew smirks and raises his hand in a crooked salute in response. Heather lowers her hand and Andrew does as well. Both the children hug their sister, who keeps her arms around them for as long as she can. But then she hears Steve clear his throat. She backs away and they walk back to the quinjet.

* * *

 **Okay, met up with her family. Check.**

 **New Avenger phone. Check.**

 **Next chapter is a shorter one, I promise. And.. I don't know when I'll get it up.**

 **Here's a question: What do you think of the Avenger Phones?**

 **And.. do _you_ have any questions?**

 **~CtW**


	5. Episode 3

**I'm back~! Sooner than last time, right?**

 **Well.. this episode goes to show that Heather may be a super soldier, but she still has to go through things a teenager girl goes through.  
Just.. being a super soldier changes it a little bit..**

 **I don't own Marvel, I do own Heather and the Ranch.**

 **Here is Episode 3**

* * *

Steve's POV

I'm on the personal computer from my apartment, scrolling through some of the files that Natasha gave me back before I met Heather. It's easier to read now that JARVIS had decrypted all of it. So far, there is nothing on Bucky.

I'm shaken from any stray thoughts as a long, drawn out groan filters down the stairs. I look up at the second level. It's quiet for a moment, but then another groan fills the silence. I put the computer to the side and stand up. I jog up the stairs, recognizing Heather as the person in distress.

I end up outside the bathroom, "Heather?" I ask, knocking, "What's wrong?"

"..Nothing," she manages, "just kinda missing pain meds right about now.." She groans again.

"Heather, I know something is wrong. Tell me," I state, "..I'm coming in, okay?" I grab the knob and start to turn it.

"NO!" Heather yells. I drop my grip. I backtrack to the kitchen, where Natasha was last. She's still there, mixing some tea.

"Something's wrong with Heather," I tell her, worried.

"So?" Natasha asks.

"Well, can you help?"

"How would I know what to do?" Natasha asks me. Heather groans up the stairs and I motion to Natasha.

"Well you seem really calm right now, while hearing Heather in pain up there," I say, annoyed. 'Can't she hear that Heather needs someone? I can't help her, maybe-'

Natasha starts laughing. I stop my train of thought and look at her. "I can't believe you don't know.." She manages.

"What?" I ask.

"..Heather, is a teenage girl, Steve."

"I know that," I say.

"So.. she's on her period," Natasha clarifies, after clearing the last few laughs from her throat.

I stand rigid a moment, shocked speechless and no doubt blushing. "...Oh."

"Cramps are usually part of the ordeal," Natasha says, turning back to her tea. "It's natural."

"Is it always this bad?"

"You don't know a thing about girls, do you?" Natasha teases. I frown at her. "No, it isn't. But she has the serum.." Natasha says, looking at me.

"...Oh, right.." I turn away, embarrassed. I chuckle at myself and walk back up the stairs. I pause at the door of the bathroom, hearing Heather verbally shuddering. "..Sorry Heather. I didn't understand."

"Heh, that's okay," she says, shakily.

"Is there, _anything_ , I can do to help?" I ask, trying to make ammends.

"..Well.. I could use a warm bath," Heather says, "could you start the water for me?"

"Is the door unlocked?"

"Yeah." I turn the knob and step inside. Heather is sitting on the cover of the toilet, thankfully, decent. Her legs are crossed and she looks up at me, major discomfort written on her face. I turn to the water and make sure it is a few degrees below uncomfortably hot.

"There," I say. I plugged the drain and filled the tug with a generous amount of water.

"Thanks Steve," Heather says.

"..Do you think it will be like this, every time?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "It's probably just my body adjusting," she guesses.

"Do you think you'll be alright now?" I ask.

Heather gives out a half-hearted laugh, "I think I can manage. Thanks Steve." I walk out of the room and close the door so she can have privacy. Heather sighs from inside the bathroom as she settles into the tub.

I walk down the stairs and chuckle again to myself. " _You still don't know a bloody thing about women."_ I sit down and smile wryly.

"..No I don't."

* * *

I walk into the house after a run through the blistering heat. Heather is sitting on the couch, working on something I can't see. I walk closer, "What's that?" I ask. Heather looks up and I see a light brown hat on her lap.

"Uh, Sam got it for me from his last trip to Washington DC," Heather says. I note that she sounds more like herself now. But then I notice what she's stitching into the side.

There was already a pre-sewn on 'U.S.' on the right side of the band. But next to her is the carefully unstitched 'ARMY' letters. Heather has a needle in her hand and is stitching on a 'N,' with 'AVE' before it. And, after further inspection, I see there is a 'G,' 'E,' and 'R' on the armrest next to her. All of it is in the same letter font as the original letters.

I tense up at the notion of her wearing the hat. But I don't bring it up. She's had a rough day today. But I will definitely bring up the subject with Sam. "So.. How are you feeling?" I ask.

"..Better," Heather says over her shoulder, after some hesitation. I nod, thankful. But I'm still uncomfortable with the subject. "I'll be alright. If I need anything, I'll let you know."

"Okay." I turn and start walking to the kitchen for some water. But then I stop and turn back around. "You know, you aren't a soldier, Heather."

Heather stops her stitching and looks at me, "I know, Steve," she says.

I turn around and sigh. 'I hope that's true.'

* * *

 **Someone mentioned that it's confusing to why Heather has an avenger phone, and yet, they don't call her an avenger.  
Well, I'm sorry to say this, but you will have to wait awhile before that question is answered.**

 **And I just realized that the U.S. AVENGER hat kinda fuels the fire.**

 **...Oops.**

 **Questions? (Other the aforementioned Avenger status?)**

 **~CtW**


	6. Episode 4

**Again, sorry it's been so long, but I got this one done.**

 **Honestly, I was procrastinating a little. I knew I was going to cry while writing this one.  
**

 **I don't own MARVEL, I only own Heather.**

* * *

Heather's POV

I'm sitting in the passenger seat of the truck as Steve drives through the city of New York. We aren't around the tall skyscrapers, but more in a residential area. "Where are we going?" I ask for the tenth time. Steve looks over at me for a second. He still hasn't been clear on the reason why he told me to go with him.

"We're going to see a friend." He turns back to watch the road. I sigh.

'But hey, it's something.' He pulls into a nursing home lot and parks. I take off my seatbelt and get out. I follow him through the door. He goes directly to the secretary at the desk and smiles once she looks up.

"Hi, we're here to see Margaret Carter," he tells her. She looks through something on her desk.

"Room 328," she says.

"Thank you," Steve walks to the elevator. Something tells me that he already knew the number. The elevator doors close on us and the music plays softly.

I decide to try conversation again. "So, who's Margaret?"

I look at Steve and he has a sad expression. He masks it, but I know better. "She's a.. A good friend," he tells me, "I'd really like for you two to meet each other." The elevator dings and Steve strides out into the hall, as if his little kicked puppy expression never happened. I follow at his heels until he stops and turns to a door; Room 328.

Steve knocks. A nurse opens the door. "Come on in," she says, opening it wider. She turns around, "You have visitors, Mrs. Carter." Then the nurse leaves to give us privacy. I look through the door and see an old woman in the bed. Her hair is silver and her face is wrinkled, most in the right places, some in the wrong.

Steve walks over to the side of the bed closest to the windows. He sits down on a chair and takes the old woman's hand. "Hey Peg," he says.

I do a double take from the door. 'I'm meeting _the_ Peggy Carter!?' I step into the room, but stay near the door, watching the scene.

"Steve.." Peggy says, a light in her eyes flickering, "It's been so long! I've missed you."

"I've missed you two Peg." Steve watches every movement that Peggy makes. His mouth is smiling, but his eyes are sad.

'He still loves her,' I deduce. The nurse appears behind me.

"I forgot my clipboard," she says. I look around and see it on the desk. I grab it for her, seeing 'Alzheimer's' under the list of ailments. I hand the nurse the clipboard and go back to watching the couple on the other side of the room.

Steve is still holding her hand. He looks up at me. He motions with his other hand and I start to slowly walk over. I sit on Peggy's other side. "Peggy," Steve says, "I'd like you to meet someone."

The old woman looks at me. I smile, "It's an honor to meet you, ma'am."

"Oh," Peggy says, flattered and confused, "And you are?"

"Heather," I introduce. She looks from Steve to me.

"You have a daughter?" She asks him. We both burst out laughing.

"Not really, no," I say.

"Heather is the world's second super soldier," Steve states, looking up briefly. Peggy looks at me, surprised.

"A world of men gave it to a girl," she says, in awe. I smile.

"Somebody's gotta use it right," I joke. She chuckles at that.

"Peggy," Steve says softly. She looks at him. "If it could work twice, you'd be proud it was her."

Peggy then looks at me, "He doesn't get into much trouble, does he?" I look at Steve briefly then make a face that says 'Well...' Peggy starts to chuckle again and then erupts into a coughing fit. I get up and pour a glass of water for her.

"Steve.." I turn around. Peggy is looking at Steve like he had just arrived. "Y-You're alive..!" She stutters.

"I couldn't leave my best girl," Steve says. I stop cold; there is so much.. Brokenness in his voice. I walk around to the other side of the bed and hand him the cup. He aims to help Peggy drink.

"Who are you?" Peggy asks me.

I choke up myself, but hide it as best I can. "My name is Heather."

Peggy looks back at Steve and then gasps lightly to herself. "You have a daughter?"

Steve opens his mouth to correct her, but I place a hand on his shoulder, "Yes," I say.

"Does he take good care of you?" Peggy asks, thrilled that Steve has supposedly found someone.

"..I keep him out of trouble," I say, making her smile.

"How is your mother?" Peggy asks.

I hesitate a moment, but then answer, "She's okay."

Peggy places her hand on Steve's. "I am so happy you have found someone Steve," she says, "I can't imagine what it must be like for you."

Steve has a few tears at the corners of his eyes. "..I think you should get some sleep, okay?"

"Yes, I have been tired lately," Peggy states. Steve helps tuck her in a little more. "Very tired.." We walk out of the room and the nurse enters again, to check on her. The door closes. I turn to Steve and immediately give him a firm hug.

"What's this for?" He asks, his voice shaky.

"You need it," I state, "You look and sound like you're falling apart.."

After a moment, he wraps his arms around me. "..I am."

* * *

We arrive back at the truck and I click on my seatbelt. Both of us has stray stains from tears, but I'm sure Steve can agree with me that we both feel a little better. I look at myself in the mirror.

"Do we really look that much alike?" I ask.

Steve starts to back the truck up, "If Peggy saw it, then it must be true." I put the mirror back and lean back against my seat. I notice Steve is staring at me.

"What?" I ask.

"..You kinda look a bit like Peggy too," he explains. I laugh at that. We both know that's impossible.

"Weird," I state. He shakes his head.

"Yeah, what am I thinking," he agrees.

* * *

 **...Yes, I just wrote that.**

 **And no, before you start thinking that, it is impossible for Heather to be related to Steve and Peggy. Don't even think about it!**

 **Questions?**


	7. Episode 5

**This June I'm in an Accountability Group. So expect a lot of updates.**

 **I don't own MARVEL.**

 **Here's the next one.**

* * *

Heather's POV

I hit the punching bag again, and again. 'Shift your center of gravity.. Adjust your stance.' After hearing the comments from Steve, Natasha, and Sam, I am able to tell myself what I'm doing wrong. At least for what they've told me.

I execute a side kick, uppercut, and stop after slamming my fist into the punching bag's center, right where the gut would be on an average sized person. I sigh and back up. Unwrapping my hands, I walk to the bench that was placed near the wall. I take a good drink of water and stand back up to go shower.

There's a warming chill outside as I make my way to the house, stretching my arms across my chest as I go. There is a fair amount of leaves on the tree in the center of the gravel round about. Grass and flowers dot the circle it sits inside. I stop and take a moment to watch it.

'Spring is finally in full swing,' I muse, chuckling to myself. The door to the house is wide open, letting in the fresh air. I peek through the window before hand. Sam and Steve are sitting on one of the couches, talking about something. Natasha is on another couch, listening silently with a computer on the table in front of her.

I then turn to the door and walk through. I try to avoid their attention, although Natasha looks up briefly. I look over at them a few times as I walk to the kitchen. I open the fridge.

"-was a sighting in Indianapolis last week," Steve says.

"But then there was another sighting a few days later in Austin. He could be anywhere," Sam counters. I stop pouring my milk and listen in.

"He's moving fast. Natasha.. What are you thinking?" There is silence for a moment.

"There was a buried article in Springfield Missouri between those dates," Natasha finally says, "that's between Austin Texas and Indianapolis Illinois."

"How did you know about the article, Natasha?"

"It was buried deep, no doubt an attempt by Hydra to hide it. I had to hack it into the light." I turn around and exit the kitchen.

"So-?"

"Maybe he's headed in that direction?" Sam asks.

"Toward Mexico?"

"No, someone posted that they found a guy that looked like he had a metal arm somewhere in California. Give me a minute," Natasha says, bending farther over her computer, "I'll narrow it down."

"What are you doing?" I finally ask. Steve and Sam jump, then turn to look at me. Natasha doesn't so much as flinch.

"It isn't something you should worry about," Steve says. I see his eyes before he turns around. He's trying to hide a haunted look.

"I'd like to help if I can," I press, walking forward.

"It's personal, Heather," Steve tells me firmly. I still hear a waver in his voice.

"Steve-"

"No Heather, you can't help," he says, not looking at me. I stiffen at the tone he uses. I turn to the stairs and walk up. I take a short, cold shower and change out of my training gear and into a pair of trousers and a tank top. I lay down on my bed.

'Indianapolis? Texas? Missouri? California?' I think to myself, trying to make sense of it all. '..A metal arm?' I sit up, deciding to sate my curiosity. I sit at my desk and open my computer. I brought it from my study room from the basement. ..From home.

"Can I be of any assistance, Miss Morse?" JARVIS asks.

"No thank you, Jarvis," I state, bringing up a search engine. I type in some key words. After sifting through the links it provides, I find one that I think they were referring to.

 _Mystery Man in Indianapolis_

I read through it. There are other names that they call him; Winter Soldier, 'ghost,' a myth.

' _Where is he now?_ ' is the title of the article from Texas.

'Who are they looking for?' I ask myself, 'And what are they forgetting to look at?' I read through the article again, then go back to the search engine. I type in 'Missouri mystery man,' but nothing relevant comes up. I try another set of keywords, but there's nothing useful. 'They said something about Hydra..'

I find a website that shows information that was leaked from Hydra. I scan through it. I stop when I see two words; Winter Soldier. I click on it.

'...What..?' I stare at the screen, not believing what I'm seeing.

* * *

Steve's POV

I rub my eyes. I've been looking at my computer still. I'm taking as much time as I can to work on this. I have to find him.

"Steve," I jump slightly and turn around. Natasha is standing there. "It's late."

"Just a few more minutes," I say turning around. I reach for my coffee mug, but Natasha takes it before I can. "Natasha," I say.

"Go to bed," she states.

"Bucky will be somewhere new in the morning.." I say solemnly, turning back around. "I have to keep trying."

"You won't be able to find Bucky on a pot of coffee. You need sleep and you know it." I sigh, knowing she's right. I close my computer. The room goes dark and I realize just how late it is.

"Okay.." I mutter, standing up. Natasha must have gone to her room, because she isn't there when I turn around.

I walk up the stairs and step into the bathroom at the end of the hall. I turn on the faucet and collect water in my cupped hands. I splash my face with the water and rub my face clean. I look up at the mirror.

'Buck-' I turn around.

No one is there. I look back at the mirror. I thought I saw him in the mirror, behind my left shoulder.

I sigh and look down at the swirling water. 'Of course he isn't there.. He isn't here. He's somewhere else and I have to find him.' I look up at the mirror. I have dark bags under my eyes. '..After some sleep.' I rub between my eyes and turn towards my room.

* * *

Heather is usually the first one up, after me. I'd come in from my run and she'd be here at the counter eating breakfast. But Natasha is already up and Heather is nowhere on the first floor. I take my toast and walk to the living room.

Sam is just coming downstairs. "No, Steve," he says. My hand is just inches from the laptop.

"I can multitask," I say.

"..Why don't you get Heather up," Sam says, "her door was still closed." I walk upstairs after setting my plate down and knock on Heather's door.

"Come in!" She says, wide awake but a little preoccupied. I open the door and walk inside. The sight I come upon is not the one I thought I'd find.

Heather is sitting criss cross on the floor, a laptop in front of her. She has a notebook between her and the computer, the end of her pencil in her mouth.

I walk around her to look at the screen, "What are you doing?" She has multiple articles pulled up. Some of them I haven't seen, but others Natasha, Sam, and I have already looked through.

Heather looks over her shoulder at me, taking the pencil out of her mouth. "I want to help," she says after gauging my expression. I'm both baffled, yet unsurprised, that she hadn't listened to me. "I think I found a few things that you had looked over," she says, setting the pencil down.

"Why are you so intent on helping?" I ask. She stops looking for the article she wanted to show me.

I squat down next to her. She then chooses what to say, "You would have done the same if it was Kate."

I nod to myself. She knows it's Bucky we're looking for. And she's right. I'd do anything I can to help if she was looking for her lost best friend. Heather wants to help someone, even if it isn't Kate.

"Why don't you bring what you found downstairs and get some breakfast," I suggest. She looks at me as I stand up, curiously surprised. "We have work to do."

* * *

 **Yes, I added Bucky to this. Who wouldn't?**

 **For those waiting for bonding moments with other Avengers, wait until next chapter. In the outline, it's labelled 'Downtime Part One.'**

 **Questions?**


	8. Episode 6

**Here's the next one! This one is much longer.**

 **As I promised, more Avenger interaction with Heather.**

* * *

3rd POV

Heather is in the barn for training, as she has been all afternoon. But her instructor for the day is none other that Clint Barton, Hawkeye. He's teaching Heather to be at least moderate with a bow. She may need to in the future.

Heather lifts the bow and pulls the string and nocked arrow back to her cheek. She waits there. "Fix your stance. You'll fall back a step if you stand like that." Heather adjusts her stance and feels like she has a more solid position. "And your hand needs to be a little lower," Clint says, moving it himself, "or you may shoot your finger off."

"Got it," Heather says. Clint backs away.

"Fire." Heather releases the arrow and it hits the target, about at the middle but not dead center. "Nock another one."

"Okay," Heather takes an arrow out of the bucket next to her. She doesn't have a quiver, this is only practice.

She nocks the arrow, pulls it back, aims, and fires. It hits on the other side of the target, still not near the center frowns at both arrows.

'It's as if they are taunting me,' she grumbles to herself.

"Here," Clint says. Heather steps back and allows him to aim at the target. "Watch my arm," he states. Heather does, but then sees something in his ear. It looks like a blue tooth comm, but she doesn't know why he'd need it now.

The arrow hits the target. When Heather looks at it, it is dead center.

"Like that. Want to try again?"

"No, my arm stings." Heather says. Clint gets back to the target. Heather looks around the barn. She decides to watch from a higher viewpoint.

There is a rope that hangs down from the rafters, used to practice vertical climbing. She grabs hold of it and starts up. She reaches the top in no time. She walks along the rafters, testing her balance.

"What are you doing!?" Clint says, yelling so she can hear him. Heather does a backflip and lands on the beam behind her.

"I haven't been able to go into the rafters back home. Now that I have the ability to do so," Heather walks around the rafters aimlessly, "Now I can."

Clint turns back to the target, "You grew up on a farm?" he asks, putting two and two together.

"Well, it's my grandparents farm, but I consider it home compared to Silven."

Heather leaps off the rafters and grabs the rope. She doesn't slide down it but jumps to the wall, bounces off and lands on top of the punching bag. She goes to the bench press next and lands in a roll on the floor to release the excess energy.

"Do you think we can go outside for the remainder of training?" She asks. Clint looks at her.

"I don't see why not." He tosses her bow at her and she catches it. She carries the bucket of arrows as well.

They walk out to the field behind the barn and Heather aims at one of the targets that are set up along the back wall of the barn. It misses. She tries again and it grazes the side. "I used to go to the farm in the summer," she states, bringing up conversation again. "It's almost summer now, and yet I can't go. At least for as long as I used to."

"And how long is that?" Clint asks, hitting a different target dead center.

"From the moment school is out to a week before school starts," Heather tells him. She nocks and fires another arrow. It's much closer to the center. "I love it there."

"Oh yeah? What's a memory you like?" Clint asks, remembering a few from where his family is.

"I'd go riding on Blaze, my horse, every day. Except for when it was raining. Those days were boring."

"Why?"

"Because I couldn't go outside." She hits the bullseye marker again. "I prefer movement," she moves her hand away from her cheek.

"You could have read something," Clint states as he aims.

"I had dyslexia," Heather states bluntly, not wanting to get into a conversation about that. It's in the past. Clint stops his firing and chuckles to himself. Heather looks at him strange. "What?"

Clint points to his ear. Heather looks closer and sees that it isn't a comm set, but a hearing aid.

"After a previous mission, I'm sixty percent deaf," Clint says with a wry smile.

Heather smiles too and raises her bow again. "It's comforting to know that heroes aren't perfect."

She hears three arrows hit the target rapidly. She turns and sees them all lodged in the center, like sardines in a can.

"I don't need hearing to shoot."

* * *

Heather is having a quiet day in the house. She's sitting on the couch, reading a book she found on the bookshelf. But a bright blast of light from outside takes her focus. A moment later, Thor walks in, holding his hammer.

"Tony is going to be furious when he finds a burnt patch in the grass," Heather quips, without looking up from her book.

Thor walks over and sets the mighty hammer on the table. "I am sure the Man of Iron will get over such a trifling matter." He turns and walks over to the kitchen. Heather smirks at his accent, word choice, and the image playing in her head of Tony finding the scarring later.

She looks up and sees the hammer sitting there. She looks away once Thor comes back with a snack. "Is it true? Can only a very few lift it?"

"Yes, it is true. Even Banner's 'Hulk' could not wield it. He had tried."

"What happened?"

"His feet sank below the concrete floor," Thor says with a hearty laugh.

Heather nods once. "I bet Steve could lift it," she states, getting back to her book.

Thor laughs again. "You jest."

Heather raises her eyebrow and looks up again. Feigning innocence, she asks, "you don't believe me?"

Thor gets an idea. "Would you like to try?"

Heather looks at the hammer again. She remembers him asking when they first met and still hasn't changed her mind. "No thanks. I don't need to know if I'm worthy. I have my own accomplishments."

"Like what?" Thor asks, interested. Heather holds up a finger and goes up to her room. Thor waits until she comes back down. She's holding her guitar.

She starts strumming the guitar. "I had dyslexia, and coul-dn't read the notes," she sings, "but I learned to play anyway." She finishes the chord and bows.

Thor claps briefly, "That is impressive, little one. One of my many feats has been to defeat the dreaded Flanderwrith."

"..What's that?"

"A beast that would haunt the faint of heart's wake and sleep," Thor says. Heather tilts her head to the side once.

'Not much else I need to know,' she decides. "That must have been hard," she says.

"Far too hard for you, young one."

Heather looks up at him, "Would you bet on that statement?"

* * *

Heather is sitting in the infirmary, bruises and minor cuts on her body. Her arm is being checked over by Bruce. "Were you even thinking?" He asks.

"..Probably not," Heather decides.

"Well you should have been. He could have done more damage," the doctor lectures. After a brief debate on who would win, Thor and Heather had gone outside and settled it old school. Thor was the winner and helped Heather to the infirmary in the basement of the house.

Heather thinks back to the fight and smirks to herself when she recalls almost pinning him. But then she winces as Bruce wraps up her bicep. Thor had whacked her good there.

"We will work on an alternate to traditional medicine for you, but-"

"that the Iron Legion and finding more Hydra bases is more of a priority," Heather finishes his sentence, "Got it. And I understand."

"So be careful who you pick fights with," Bruce says. Heather sighs.

"I won't get as banged up next time."

"Next time?"

"The next time I spar," Heather clarifies.

"That was not sparring."

Heather sighs, seeing the seriousness in his eyes, "Okay, okay. I won't pick fights with Thor."

"Good. I don't like patching you up." Bruce puts away the first aid stuff. Heather takes a small leap off the table and rubs her arm gently. "Would you like to help me with a project?"

"Not sure how I'll be of any help, but sure." Heather follows him up the stairs and to the barn. They then walk down the stairs to the workshop/lab.

Heather passes by her uniform, which is on a mannequin. Tony said he'd be 'fixing' it. But she's unsure what he means by that. Making it better is her best guess.

"So, what will I be doing?"

"Since Tony isn't here, I need you to type the code for a project we are doing," Bruce says, "we have it written down here."

"Which project?" Heather asks as she sits at the desk, to get typing. It's not like she has anything else to do.

"Something to help you on future missions," is all Bruce tells her, looking over something on a holo desk in the back left corner. He presses a few places on it and looks over the digital blueprint of the Simulator. Heather eyes him a moment and then turns to the computer to start typing.

* * *

 **Swapping disability stories, brawling with a prince of Asgard, and working on coding silently for a project she doesn't know anything about. Yep, sounds like the typical day for Heather at the Ranch.**

 **Quick question: Can anyone think of a better name for the Ranch? It's confusing between it and her grandparents farm.**

 **'Part two' of this will come later.**

 **R &R! Any questions? Did anybody not know that Clint was mostly deaf? (It's in the comics. I don't read them much, but that is an interesting fact I found online.)**


	9. Episode 7

**Here's the next one.**

 **I don't own Marvel.**

 **And now, to fulfill a promise.**

* * *

3rd POV

The quiet spring air was sliced in half by the grunts and yells of two super soldiers. Heather's training was brutal for an average human. But for one at peak performance, she has a thick coat of sweat and a whole lot of energy to burn.

After the run, the stretches, the obstacle course, and another run, Heather and Steve ended up in the barn for a sparring match. An all out, first pinned loses, hand-to-hand combat session.

Steve has Heather on the ropes most of the time, unless she's able to pull a move that Natasha's been having her practice. Being more experienced, Steve isn't surprised that he wins.

Right in the middle of the sparring, Heather's phone goes off at the bench. They pause and look over at it. Steve let's go of Heather's arm, which had healed from her brawl with Thor a couple days ago.

"Go ahead and answer it," he says. Heather walks over and picks it up. She rubs her neck with a towel as she opens it up. "You should leave it off though," he adds.

"I don't get messages often, so this is no doubt important," Heather counters, "plus.. I don't exactly know how. It doesn't have an off button, so I don't think I can." Heather looks at the message. She smiles.

"What is it?" Steve asks, noticing how her face just lit up.

"..A promise," Heather says. She puts the phone away and walks back over. "Where were we?"

* * *

Heather walks into her room after sparring. She takes out her phone and looks at the message again. It's from Leslie. She sent a short list of songs she'd like Heather to sing.

"Jarvis, start a recording," Heather says.

"Right away, miss," he replies.

"And find an instrumental version of What Doesn't Kill You, along with the other songs that come after it," Heather adds, putting the phone down.

"It would be my pleasure." There's a beat of silence before the music starts. Heather taps here foots.

"You know the bed feels warmer," Heather sings, "Sleeping here alone." She sings through the first verse, waiting for the chorus to start. She likes that part better.

And then it does.

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger! Stand a little taller, doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone! What doesn't kill you makes a fighter! Footsteps even lighter! Doesn't mean I'm over when you're gone!"

Steve had finished his after training shower. He hears Heather singing and peeks through the crack of the partially open door. He watches Heather sing the next verse.

"You didn't think that I'd coming back, I'd come back swinging," Heather mock punches the air in front of her. "You tried to break me but you see-

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger! Stand a little taller! Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone! What doesn't kill you makes a fighter! Footsteps even lighter! Doesn't mean I'm over, when you're gone! What doesn't kill you makes you

"Stronger! Stronger~!" Steve waits until the song is finished. Then he steps in. "Jarvis, pause recording."

"Yes miss," Jarvis says, where from the pair doesn't know.

"Why the sudden interest in singing?" Steve asks. Heather turns around. She didn't hear him come in.

"..When my sister was sick, if she had a nightmare, or if there was a thunderstorm outside, she'd always go to me for comfort. I'd take out my guitar and I'd sing to her," Heather explains, "And since I can't do that now, I told her the last time we visited that she can send me songs she wants to hear. I would record those songs and send them back."

Steve smiles as she explains. And when he can talk, there's a silence before he says, "Andrew and Leslie have a wonderful older sister."

Heather blushes at the comment. "Thank you. But.. I wasn't always thinking about them. I'm not perfect."

Steve sets a hand on her shoulder, "No one is perfect." Heather stands up straighter. "I will leave you to it." He turns and walks out the door.

"Start up the next one Jarvis. Recording on," Heather says. The next one is 'She's Somebody's Hero.' Heather smiles to herself, 'Love you Mom.'

The music plays. Heather takes a deep breath.

"She's never pulled anybody from a burning building. She's never rocked central park to a half a million fans, screaming out her name. She's never, hit a shot to win the game. She's never left her footprints on the moon. She's never made a solo, hot air balloon ride, around the world. No she's just your everyday average girl! But-

"She~'s somebody's hero! A hero to her baby with the skinned up knee a little kiss is all she needs. The keeper of the cheerios! Voice that brings Snow White to life, bedtime stories every night. And that smile lets her know, ohh~" Heather looks up at the ceiling. "She's somebody's hero~."

Heather finishes the song, shedding a tear or two about the times when she was little and her mother was there for her. She feels as though it has been switched and now Heather has to care for her mother. She regrets that she couldn't visit her mother the last time.

"Final song Jarvis," Heather states after wiping the tears away. It comes on. Heather realizes that Leslie must pick the songs by what she is thinking, how she's feeling. This one is 'Can't Back Down.'

Heather sings this one, thinking of her sister. She puts everything she has into this song. As if to say 'No Leslie I will not give up, I will not back down. I am in this to the end of it.'

The song finishes and Jarvis stops the last recording. "Send it to the origin," Heather commands, "For a Leslie Diane Morse."

* * *

 **Awww!**

 **Questions?**


	10. Episode 8

**So.. how's everybody doing?**

 **I've been cranking these out, and I'm happy about it. It's nice to be updating on a daily basis.**

 **I do not own Marvel.**

 **This is the second part of the Downtime moments with other Avengers.**

* * *

3rd POV

"No.. don't sho.. Leave her be…" Heather whimpers to herself. "..Where are you?" She turns over. 'I can't- I can't find her! She's here, I can hear her, but-'

Heather sits up, panting. She's started to sweat. She looks around, realizing she was a having a nightmare. Her room is still dark. She sighs, trying to stop her racing heart.

'That felt too real.' She pushes the covers away and stands up. She tip toes passed the other bedroom doors to the stairs. Each one is closed, no one else is up. She doesn't stop at the living room and walks right out onto the porch.

The screen door that Steve added recently hits the frame with a 'thwap,' making Heather cringe. But the only thing that follows the loudest noise she has made since she's been up is silence.

She sits down on the bench, looking out at the scene before her. The nightmare is still fresh in her mind, behaving more like a night terror than anything.

 _The Hydra goon had a mask on, his facial features obscured. He has his hands firm on her brother, and Heather wants them off. Andrew looks at her with absolute fear. "Heather save me!"_

 _Heather couldn't. She was free, nothing holding her down. But she couldn't. She couldn't move. Her feet were planted in their spots. "One step and she dies," the Hydra goon says. Heather looks up. It's now her mother on her knees, a gun to her temple. "Now drop the weapon."_

 _Heather looks to her hand. She's holding a gun, the same one that she had strapped above her tailbone on her first mission. The one she never fired. She looks up. "Sweetheart, save me," her mother says. Heather looks at the gun again. A sickening feeling in her stomach builds._

" _Only for you, Mom," Heather says, "No one but my family." Heather lifts the gun and aims at the man's head. He reaches up and takes his mask off; It's her dad. Heather stares in horror, but then the whole scene fades away and Heather falls into space below her. She lands with a thud and her whole body fills with pain. She has bruises, cuts, gashes, and burns all over her body._

" _Heather...!" Heather looks up. That's Leslie's voice, distant. She stands up and sees she's in a hallway. There is no where to go behind her, so she walks forward. A door appears at the end. "Heather!" Leslie's voice is louder. Heather runs to the door. "HEATHER HELP!"_

 _Leslie is right behind the door, Heather can feel it. She opens the door- There's another hallway, just like the one she left. "Leslie?" Heather asks._

" _Heather…!" The older sibling runs again, to the end of the hall. There's another hallway, and Leslie is once again in the distance. Every door she reaches, her sister is always too far away._

Heather snaps herself out of the memory. She feels sick. She couldn't help her brother, she almost shot her _dad_ for her _mom_ , and she couldn't find her sister. She puts her hands on her head and shakes it slowly, to get rid of the questions that go through her head. 'Why did I dream that?'

The screen door snaps again, jolting Heather to sit up. She looks to her right and sees Natasha standing there, wearing her black pjs. There's a small silence that follows. "Are you alright?" Natasha asks.

Heather sits up a little more, "Yeah, just.. Couldn't sleep," she tells the half-truth. Natasha sits next to her.

"Any reason?" Natasha asks. Heather shakes her head. "Heather, you're crying," Natasha adds, like it was obvious. Heather touches her cheek and warm tears transfer to her fingers and lazily trickle down.

"Oh.." Heather crosses her arms over her stomach, willing the sickening feeling to pass. It doesn't. "I had a night terror," she admits.

"Want to tell me about it?" Natasha suggests, a little out of her element. Heather shakes her head, so Natasha doesn't press the matter. They sit there together, watching the fireflies blink and listen to the trees rustle in the distance.

"..Why are you up?" Heather asks.

"I heard the screen door slam. Thought it best to check for an intruder." Heather looks at her. She sees a mask on Natasha's face, but there are cracks where pain pushes through.

"I know you're lying," Heather states.

"..How?"

Heather looks away, "If I tell you, then you'll adapt." She peeks at the ex-assassin, "So why are you really up?"

Natasha doesn't answer. Now it's Heather's turn to not press it. Natasha doesn't seem like the person that would answer.

Natasha looks at Heather. She finds herself looking at Heather like she's her little sister, in need of protecting and encouragement. She hasn't been the greatest at family related things, but she feels a bond toward the teen.

Natasha agrees with Steve. Heather is not a soldier. She shouldn't be trained to be like any of them; especially Natasha Romanoff. "I'm sorry that I insisted that you carry a gun," Natasha says, "you don't have to if you aren't comfortable with it."

"I forgive you. I'm glad I didn't have to use it," Heather says. Natasha looks up at the stars. "..Are you ever going to tell me about why you are up?" Heather prods.

Natasha stiffens. _The doors open, the smell is enough to make her puke, but she stays stoic. Don't show emotion, emotions are weak._

" _You will be strong."_

Natasha blinks. She had a nightmare too. Only hers was a memory. A memory of the Red Room, of her upbringing, of all the lessons she took. But there is no way that she's going to tell Heather about that.

She looks at Heather and sighs. "It's in the past. I'd like to leave it there."

Heather considers the statement for a moment. "Okay," she decides. Natasha is relieved that Heather isn't being as stubborn as she was before. She's more.. Timid, cautious.

'Maybe her terror was about her family,' Natasha guesses. She's about to ask Heather what her nightmare was about again, but then she feels something lean against her shoulder.

She looks to her left and sees it is a head of tangled brown hair. Heather doesn't make a big deal out of it, she just needs the comfort. But for Natasha, this is big. Heather trusts her.

"You are the little sister I never had," Natasha says quietly in Russian.

* * *

Steve had to go out on a personal mission, so he entrusted Sam with Heather's training for the day or days he's gone. After the stretches and a brief sparring, they ended up at the track. Heather stretches again on the black top and Sam takes a drink of water.

"Do you know what his mission was about?" Heather asks.

Sam shakes his head as he screws the cap back on his bottle. "My only guess is it is to look for Bucky. But.. I could be wrong."

"I'm just glad I'm not stuck with Stark for the time he's gone," Heather says as she stands up.

"Why's that?" Sam asks.

"He'd talk in his science jargon and I would easily get bored. And when I'm A. bored and B. around Tony, I end up doing something to get him on my bad side. I have yet to feel retaliation, and it's fun to mess with him, but I have a feeling he's planning something." Heather smiles, "Plus, you're easier to hang out with."

They take positions on the track. "Go!" Heather and Sam are off for a run. Sam pumps his arms and legs back and forth. Then Heather passes him on his right. 'Okay, she's got Steve's stamina.'

And she disappears around the bend. Sam goes about a fourth of the way around, and Heather passes him again.

'Really?' Heather disappears behind the trees as she makes the turn. She appears behind him again not much longer. "Really, you're going to keep doing that?" He asks as she passes him. Heather chuckles a little before pulling ahead.

Sam comes to a stop at the beginning of the track again and slows to a walk, huffing and sweating like crazy. Heather's already there. "You okay?" she asks. She hands him his bottle.

"Why.. did I think, racing you.." Sam says as he unscrews the cap. He takes a long drink. "Would be a good idea?" Heather laughs a little, aware of the irony.

* * *

Heather stares at the computer screen. The game she's playing is boring, easy, and not amusing in the slightest. She turns to look at Tony, who is halfway under one of the many projects he's working on. She looks back at the screen. She moves the chair she's sitting in back and forth on its swivel, making an irritating squeaking noise.

"Do you have to be down here?" Tony asks.

"I'm not bothering you, so quit complaining," Heather says, "And yeah, I do. Steve isn't back yet and Sam had to join him."

"And everyone else-"

"Is busy," Heather finishes.

"You are in my space," Tony states, "you always bother me."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" She asks, shutting off the computer game.

"..Put more coffee in the machine," Tony decides. Heather stares at him.

'Seriously?' Tony stands up and wipes off his hands. Heather sees the dark circles under his eyes. Heather looks at the coffee machine that is sitting on the desk. Tony had bought one for easy access in his lab. "How long have you been up, Stark?" Heather questions casually.

"About.. Four days," Tony answers, squinting at his calendar. Heather nods, just to show she's listening. She crouches down and opens the coffee cupboard. She looks at the different canisters and finds one Steve bought on the last trip to a store. She smiles.

She stands up with it and fills the machine. She closes the cupboard and walks away from the machine. Before she can get back to her game, the door opens and Steve walks in. "I'm back, I'd like to go over something with you, Heather," he says.

"Okay," Heather instantly stands up off the chair that she put her butt back on a second ago and walks up the stairs with him.

Tony walks to the machine and gets another mug of coffee. He sits back at a project and starts to tinker. He takes a sip of the coffee. Sometime later, he realizes that it isn't going to help him. Tony groans groggily and walks up the stairs.

Steve and Heather are still in the barn. Steve shows her a move and she mimics him. Tony walks over to them. Heather sees him and smirks. "Heather.." he says, "Did you check to see what the can said before filling the coffee machine?"

"Mmhm," she says, "you need sleep."

"I told you to-"

"She's right, Tony," Steve says, stepping in, "go to the house. Ten hours at least, nothing less."

Tony grumbles to himself and starts shuffling to the doors. "I'm just trying to look out for you Stark!" Heather calls after him, "Someone has to."

* * *

 **As you can see, I don't have a specific moment for Steve. That's because he and Heather will be having a lot of said moments.**

 **I'd love to hear feedback! You guys are awesome!**

 **Next ones are a part one part two again.**

 **Heh.. I just realized something. This is chapter marks the beginning of summer in the story, and it's the beginning of summer. :D HOW COOL IS THAT!?**

 **~CtW**


	11. Episode 9- Part One

**Okay, I must warn you, this has a trigger at the beginning. It hints at suicide at the beginning. I don't know if this would really happen, but I wrote it and I'm posting it.**

 **But it gets better and you'll see why.**

 **I don't own Marvel, I do own.. the place that the characters are going to next. ;)**

* * *

Heather's POV

I walk into the barn. "Steve!" I yell, hoping he's in here. I want to go up the mountain, but by his instructions, I can't unless he is with me.

I hear something in the weapons room so I walk over there. I see Steve inside, looking over a glock in his hand.

"Hey Steve? Can we-" He looks up at me. His eyes mimic those of a lost and sad puppy, "Nevermind, are you okay?" I step inside. That was a stupid question, of course he's not okay. The bravest man I know looks like someone gave him a bad beating and he was powerless to stop them. Something is wrong.

But I need to see his reaction to know just how wrong. He looks down at the gun in his hand and nods, "Yeah, I'm alright."

My first clue is he doesn't even try to smile. The corners of his mouth stay right where they are. The second is that he doesn't make eye contact when telling me. The third, he sounds like he's only half here. "Steve," I say pointedly, "What's wrong?"

He doesn't look away from the object in his hand. I slowly walk forward and put my hand on his arm. With my other, I slide the hateful weapon out of his grasp. I check the cartridge. It only has one bullet inside.

"...Steve.." He looks away. I set the gun on a flat surface and keep a firm yet gentle grip on his arm. He still refuses to look at me. I don't have any words. None I can tell him. He's the person that has gone through the worst, missing seventy years of life. Most of his friends are dead and the few that aren't are.. very different. He's lost everything.

I know why, deep in my heart, I know. There is nothing I can say to make him feel better. He could, Steve could. But he is the one hurting. So I do the one thing I think could help, even in the tiniest bit.

I give him a hug. I wrap my arms around his middle and hug him. It takes him but a moment to return it. The realization takes over and I start shedding tears for him, because I know he rarely ever cries. I don't expect him to do anything or say anything. But he proves me wrong. "I know how it's going to happen."

"What?" I ask.

"How I'm going to die," he says slowly, "It's going to be out on a mission, or on the operating table after one." I hug him tighter. He chokes on what I can guess are tears. "I'm going to be doing this forever, Heather."

"What makes you think that?" I let go and lead him out of the room to the larger opening of the barn. We sit on the bench, leaning against the wall. My arm is over his shoulders. He is crying. He is so sure of himself. He's been holding it in so long, barricading it in.

Now it all comes out after the dam broke. "When I was back home, all I wanted was to be a soldier, to serve my country." I listen, allowing him to continue. "Then I got what I wanted and fell into the ice. I can't go back. I can't cope without a war or a problem. It's out of my control." I lean my head against his shoulder. "I wanted to protect my country, but in doing so, that is all I've become. It's who I am."

"Don't say that," I tell him, "You are more than Captain America."

"To the world, I am. To me, I am," he answers, still distant from the conversation. I look up at him.

"You aren't to me." He looks at me, my statement not making an effect. "Okay, so what if you won't have a normal life? It's overrated anyway." I internally cringe at the statement. If I could go back to what it was like before this, I would in a heartbeat. Just to see my family smile again. "..Steve, you wanted me to have a second option, so I don't become you," I remind him.

"I know."

"But.. what if you have one too?" He looks at me surprised. "You are telling me you have no choice. This is who you are. If that mentality causes you to want more control over the when and how, I won't have it. You can choose, just like every other American."

"What would I do, Heather? Sell my drawings?"

"No.. you could go back to the normal army. Orr.. live off your promised reward from the government for your services in the world war and travel." He scoffs and stands up. I think of one last option. He might like this one. "The farm has an extra room." Steve stops walking away. "Several, actually," I say as I stand up, "It's quiet. It's routine. Sure it smells.."

I walk forward, where he is just standing there.

"But it is home. Grandma and grandpa would be happy to house you if you want. And, Storm could use a rider, since I pay more attention to Blaze. The barn and other buildings usually get wrecked sometime each year, so it's never boring. And hey," I spread my arms wide, "I thought of it the moment I saw this place. It's practically the same!" I look around. "Well.. except there are no horses, more guns, mountains, an obstacle course, track, and radio dome."

"Why are you so set on me going there?" Steve asks. He turns to look at me.

I take a deep breath, "Because before I came here and all this craziness started, that farm was my sanity. I lived for the next summer, up to the one where I would graduate and never look back at Silven. It took every ounce of my will to step off the property every autumn because I felt safe. I could be myself."

"So?" I look at my shoes.

"I just thought maybe you could find yourself too.." I turn my eyes to the ceiling. "The only pieces of tech is grandpa's computer and the tv in the living room, which has cable, but still. I don't even look at the news when I'm there. Dawn to dusk, I'm outside doing what I can. Sometimes even before the sun-"

"Why don't we go?" I look at him. He still isn't smiling, but his eyes are a little less hopeless.

"Now?" I ask. He looks around and shrugs.

"Sure." I beam instantly and hug him. "Do you need to pack anything?"

I let go and think. "No, only my guitar and..." I think really hard on what else I need. I shrug, "My phone?"

"I'll start packing." We walk to the exit together.

"If you're planning on staying for a couple days," I comment, "plan for a week, you're going to love it there."

* * *

Steve's POV

"Take the next right," Heather says, turning the map. I watch the fields for a break and then take her instructions. "We're almost there." I look away from the empty road for a moment. Heather is concentrating on the large paper. "On the next.." She looks up, "left.."

I look up and see the approaching turn. It has a wooden arch across it, signalling the beginning of the Morse Family Farm. I turn through it and drive up the gravel road. There's a farmhouse that is relatively large, but the A-house is bigger. The barn, stables, and other buildings scattered around the lot with gravel and dirt mingling in the large open space.

I stop the truck close to the house. I shut it off and look at Heather. She's just staring at the house, a look of nostalgia on her face. Then she brightens instantly and opens the door. I look at the house and see the door is open and a figure is coming down the steps. Heather runs at the house and I start to climb out of the truck. Heather hugs into the first person she sees.

"Grandma!" She yells.

"Oh my!.. Heather?"

"It's me, Grandma. I missed you so much."

"Step back, let me get a good look'a you." Heather stands back and spins in a circle. "You've grown."

"More than you'd think," Heather says. I clear my throat. The pair look at me. Mrs. Morse has silver brown hair and wrinkles in the right places.

A brief thought passes, 'Peggy's daughter could be her age.'

"Who's this?" I come back to reality and Heather is still beaming.

"Grandma," she says, walking to me, "I'd like you to meet, Captain Rogers." Her grandmother looks from her to me.

"It.. It is an honor to meet you sir." She walks over and shakes my hand, "My name's Mrs. Lucille Morse."

"Steven Rogers." I let go of her hand, "And the honors all mine. Heather speaks highly of you."

She brushes her apron excitedly. "Oh, come in, come in, please." We follow her to the house. "Uh uh!" She stops us before we reach the porch. "Check your boots." I look at Heather, who is already looking at the bottom of her sneakers. I do the same.

"Clean." Heather walks up the steps. After seeing my boots are clean, I follow. Heather walks right inside and looks around. "I miss this place more than life itself..." She says, taking in every detail.

It seems cozy, clean, and.. simple. "I've got a couple pies in the oven. Apple and pumpkin."

"You know me, Grandma," Heather says.

The lady chuckles, "Apple." She looks at me.

"Oh, apple." She nods, smiling.

"You're grandpa had gone to town to bring you here last week, but he came up empty handed." She sits down with Heather. "Did something happen?"

"I want to tell you both together," Heather admits, barely able to keep it in as is. Mrs. Morse pats her hand, understanding.

She looks at me, "Few things get Heather this excited about," she says, "I can't wait to hear it." I look at her grand daughter and see a little sadness lingering in her eyes as well as excitement. But if our hostess saw it as well, she doesn't mention it.

Heather suddenly looks around, though still sporting her smile. "Where _is_ Grandpa?"

There's a hesitant pause before Mrs. Morse answers, "Visiting a neighbor," solemnly. Heather looks at her elder just as suddenly as she noted her grandpa's absence. Her smile disappears. "He's off again. Done so a few times since you didn't come back with your grandpa," she adds as Heather gets up.

"Where?" Heather asks.

"The Burtons' fields."

"Steve, let's go. I'll show you how to get there," Heather says walking out the door.

"Why?" I ask, following.

She doesn't stop moving until she's in the truck, "It's Blaze."

* * *

 **Cliffhanger! Haha!**

 **Okay, I'm sorry about the changes in POV. I like third person. The problem is, I wrote this out awhile ago I it had personal stuff in it that I would have to take out while changing it. The next chapter is like this one, so I'm sorry. But others I will do as 3rd POV.**

 **What do you think of the farm?**

 **Any other questions?**


	12. Episode 9- Part Two

**This is the next part. Sorry it took so long to upload. I left you all on a cliff hanger, didn't I?**

* * *

I can hear him before we get there. Blaze is neighing and bucking at probably my grandpa. I open the door the moment I see him, not waiting until Steve stops the truck. "Heather wait!" I don't listen and roll when I hit the ground. I run once I'm upright, straight for the horse. He's taken off, but I catch up.

I grab his bridle and hoist myself on top of him. "Blaze.." I whisper, holding tight to his neck. "I'm here." I pull the bridle back, slowing him to a walk. I pat his neck and sit up straight. We turn around and trot back to the pair of men by the truck. One is Steve and the other is my flustered grandpa.

I stop Blaze by the pair and slide off. "What an entrance," Grandpa states. I keep my hand on Blaze and hug him with my other arm.

"Grandpa."

He looks me up and down, "I wouldn't have recognized ya, but no one can calm him down but you," he smiles. I chuckle, modest. Although I know it is true. Blaze and I have a bond that isn't easily broken.

"I'm sure you've met Mr. Rogers," I say, motioning to Steve.

".. _Captain_ Rogers?" Grandpa asks him.

They shake. "The one and only," Steve notes. Grandpa chuckles.

"Noah Morse, an honor ta meet ya. Better get back to the missus. I got my truck. Heather, can you-"

"I'll take care of him," I assure. Grandpa nods.

"I follow you," Steve says, "my navigator has her own ride."

Grandpa shakes his head on the way back, "I thought I'd need the trailer." I sit back on Blaze's bare back and tip my head again to Steve.

"Welcome to the Morse Farm, Steve." I start Blaze at a trot and reach the farm before them. I walk Blaze to the corral and let him inside. "Here, boy," I unbuckle his bridle, "Let's get that off.." He shakes his head with the new freedom. I hold his head close to mine. "I missed you.."

He walks off and I close the gate. The trucks arrive and park by the barn. I walk over to them and give Grandpa a proper hug. "Two hugs in a day?"

"I'm making up for not being there last week," I say, "I missed you."

"Let's go see the missus. She tell ya 'bout the pies?"

"Yep," I pipe up.

"Well let me get a couple slices before you eat the rest." I give him a wry smile and I jog to the porch. I check my boots and walk up. Grandma greets me again and sighs.

"No trouble then?"

"Nothing Heather couldn't handle," Grandpa says behind me. Steve stays silent and sits at the table.

"Grandpa? 'Ma? Can you sit down?"

"Certainly." They sit down and I take the seat next to Steve.

"I haven't been gone a long time, but a lot has happened since last summer." I pause, gauging their expressions. "The shelf is in the same spot, right?"

"Yes." I stand up and walk away. "Peculiar," Grandma says to herself.

"Yes.. she's never used any of the books on the shelf," Grandpa agrees.

"Why not?" I smile. Steve had forgotten, or is just making conversation.

"You see, Heather has dyslexia. It is very difficult for her to read." I select a book and open to a random page. I start reading aloud and walk back into the dining room. My grandparents are staring agape at me.

"..I can read," I say, "I've been able to read sometime since I left."

"How?" Grandpa asks, looking again at my toned muscles. Then he compares me to Steve.

"The serum," I say slowly. Grandma puts her hand to her mouth. Grandpa's mouth simply drops. I smile. "I can read, I'm faster. Kate said I could be great- you, grandma," I say, turning to her, "said I was meant for more than a simple farm life. That I could do something that can change the world." I spread my arms wide, "Now I am!"

* * *

Steve's POV

Her grandparents had a lot of questions and of course, we tried to answer them all as best we could. Heather got settled into her old room and I got a guest room across the hall. I knocked on Heather's door, but no one answered. "Heather?"

I open the door and it's empty. I walk down the stairs and find her grandma with the leftover pumpkin pie slices. We finished the apple pie in our talk. She turns to look at me. "She's gone to the barn." I nod and walk out. The barn has its doors open, so I walk right in.

"Heather!" I call. Her head peaks over the loft railing.

"Be right down!" After a moment, she slides down the ladder. Heather walks over to stand next to me. "Yeah?"

She's wearing a plaid shirt, blue jeans, and cowgirl boots. Her hair is in a braid over her shoulder and a leather vest finishes her look. "I was just wondering where you were.." I say, "You look a little.. country," I add.

"Yeah," she looks down. "It feels good. A teensy bit tight though."

"What have you been up to?"

"Well," She walks over to the middle of the barn, "I was helping grandpa. He can't stack the extra bales and the help he used to get, apparently, can't come this week." She pulls at a rope attached to a pulley system.

"Where do they go?"

"When the normal spot is full?" She specifies, "Up there." She points to the loft. She puts the rope around the next bale of hay and secures it. She pulls at the rope, bringing up the bale.

"Need some help?"

"Yeah, actually." She stops pulling, "Can you hold this?" I walk over and take the rope. I hold it at the spot she left it. She climbs the ladder again and appears next to the suspended bale. She pulls it over the loft floor and then calls down. "Drop it."

I let go and hear a soft thud above me. "So, did you do this before?" I felt the weight of the bale, it was too heavy for her before.

"Nope," the pulley rope hangs by me as it evens out, "but now that I can, might as well help, right?"

"Right." She arrives next to me, getting the next bale of hay ready. We repeat the process until the last four bales are in the loft. Then Heather comes back down and heads out of the barn, jogging backwards.

"I wanna to introduce someone." I follow her lead and end up at the stables. I know it is, because of the smell coming from the closed doors. She opens them up and steps inside. "Boots by the door if you want 'em," she says.

I look at the cowboy boots. Then I look at the floor. It's relatively clean, but there are spots and smears of brown and hay in a few spots. I'll just watch my step. I walk in. "Who am I to meet?"

"Actually, you've already met." She opens a stall and leads out the reddish brown horse from earlier. He has a few yellow spots, creating a vague fire like appearance. "This is Blaze." I walk closer. "Hold out your hand," Heather instructs. I extend my arm, the palm of my hand a few inches away from the horse's snout. After a moment, he pushes against my hand and snorts. "He likes ya."

"Nice to finally meet him." Heather brings him back to his stall. "Where's-"

"Storm is over here." Heather goes to the stall next to Blaze's, with the name 'Storm' on it. She leads out a gray horse, just as big as Blaze. "She's a little less active than before, but I intend to give her a few good stretches." She brushes her fingers through Storm's deep gray mane.

"So, Storm was your horse, and Blaze.."

"..Blaze was Kate's, yes," Heather answers when I don't. "We were thinking of breeding them, but they were too young before. At least, that's the excuse grandpa gave us."

"Do you know the real reason?"

"We were too young to chose," Heather admits, "Blaze and Storm are best friends, like Kate and I. It would be wrong."

"They are horses," I comment.

"They are more than that," Heather says, hugging the horse, "They're family." She puts Storm back in her stall and then looks inside, "Geesh.."

"What?"

"Ahh.. I just know what I'll be doing tomorrow morning." She closes the gate and walks away. I start up the steps to the house. "Boots!" She yells. I look at my boots and see the mud and possible manure on the bottom.

"So.. do I take them off?" I ask. Heather is already at a pipe spout next to the house. She's washing off her boots, with the water, some soap, and her hand. "Don't you have a scrub or.."

She looks up at me. "What? It's just manure. I'll wash my hands after." I wait for my turn then copy what she did. "Plus," she says as she dries her hands, "A little dirt never hurt anybody."

* * *

3rd POV

Steve stirs to the rooster outside. He opens his eyes and faint yet brightening light is streaming through his window, filtering through the patterned curtains. He sits up, rubbing his eyes. 'That was the greatest sleep I've had in awhile,' he admits, 'Maybe it's because I'm on vacation. Or I'm finally used to the soft mattresses now.'

He gets up and changes into the clothes he brought, tee shirt and jeans. He puts on his blue jacket and walks out. He goes down the stairs and is greeted by the image of Mrs. Morse at the kitchen stove.

"Good morning," Steve says, walking over.

Mrs. Morse turns around to see him. "Good morning Captain Rogers. How did you sleep?"

Steve sits at the table and takes a deep breath. "It was very quiet," he comments. "And please, it's just Steve."

"Then I'm just Lucille, or Lucy, as Noah calls me sometimes," she says, looking over her shoulder.

"..I'm guessing that you are Heather's father's parents," Steve says.

"That is correct. Colin is my son. It is sad that they can't go home. I've been to their house once or twice. It was very nice." Steve nods in agreement. "So.. what happened?" Lucille asks.

"..Well.. If you don't mind, I think it's best not to talk about it," Steve says, "Just know that they are being well taken care of, you have my word."

Lucille pauses for a moment, "It was something awful, wasn't it?" She asks.

Steve sighs, "Yes, it was. Heather is still bothered by it, so-"

"Do not talk about it, I understand," Lucille finishes, "I know a thing or two about something bothering Heather."

Steve leans back in his chair. "..When does Heather usually get up?" He asks, looking up the stairs from his seat.

"She already is." Steve turns back to look at Lucille. "Up before dawn, down after dusk, that one."

"Well, where is she?" Steve asks.

"My best guess? At the stables."

"I'll go join her," Steve says, standing up.

"Will you tell her that food will be done soon?" The grandma asks.

"Of course." Steve takes a peek as he passes to see what she is cooking. And what he sees is enough for a small army. He turns away, meaning to ask later at breakfast. He walks out, puts on his boots, and strolls over to the smelliest of the buildings, where Heather brought him the day before.

He steps in and doesn't have to call for her to see where she is. Her denim covered legs and butt are sticking out of a stall halfway down the hall of straw. Steve watches her clean out the rest of the stall, ignoring the sting in his nose.

Heather stands up and wipes her forehead with the back of her gloved hand. She sees Steve standing there. "Morning!" She calls to him.

"Why'd you get up so early?" Steve asks.

"..Well," Heather says, signs of vigorous work in her breath, "I've always done this at the farm."

"Yes, your grandmother told me, but why do you do that?" Steve asks.

Heather shrugs, "It's the farm. It has some kind of effect on me." She leans the pitchfork against the wood panelling. "While you're here, can you help me with putting food and water in the stalls? I have to finish cleaning out the last one."

"Yeah, sure." Steve follows her to where the buckets are.

"Here's your buckets," she says, handing him two. "The pump for the stable is outside. You saw it, right?"

"Yes."

"Good, fill those three-fourths full for each stall. There are eight stall total, but only seven are being used." Steve nods and walks outside.

* * *

 **There will be a part C for this one. I tried to update all of it on here, but it wouldn't let me. Then again.. it's about nine pages.**

 **And I have decided to keep this as 3rd person. The rest will be third person, regardless. It works.**


	13. Episode 9- Part Three

**And here's the last part of the Farm episode.**

* * *

3rd POV

He turns the spout on and fills each of the two buckets. He walks inside, wrinkling his nose at the smell. The first two stalls are taken care of, then he goes back outside. When he's done with the third and fourth, Heather joins him. She carries two buckets, while he gets one. They hang up the buckets when they are done.

"So, you enjoy doing this every morning?" Steve asks. Heather takes the handles of the wheelbarrow full of manure and pushes it outside. There's a manure pile surrounded by planks.

"I love to take care of the animals. They are family to me. And besides," she dumps the manure out. "I've been going here ever since I was very little, so it's only natural that the smell doesn't bother me." She pulls the empty wheelbarrow behind her as they walk back.

She looks up and waves. Steve turns his head to see her grandpa at another building. He waves back to his granddaughter when he sees her. Heather parks the wheelbarrow right at the opening to the stables and walks in. Steve wrinkles his nose again, but it isn't quite as bad as before.

"If you can't handle it, you can go help grandpa with the machines," Heather says, seeing his reaction. Steve doesn't hear any teasing in her tone, she's serious. She wants him to be comfortable in a place at the farm.

'She wants me to like it here,' Steve realizes. "No, I'm good. I won't let a little smell stop me. What's next?"

"Food," Heather grabs the buckets and Steve follows her to where she fills the buckets of the horse fodder. Then they fill the second troughs in the stalls.

Then Heather goes out the back door into the corral. She brings a lead with her. She picks a horse and leads it back. She walks in, leading the tall black horse with speckles of white along its rump and neck. Steve watches her walk it calmly to the far stall.

"This is Domino," Heather says. The horse snorts, shaking its head of flies.

"Domino," Steve repeats. Heather leads Domino into her stall, takes the lead off her bridle, and closes the gate. It has her name above the opening, black with white letters. Heather takes the lead with her again and goes to get another horse. She walks in with a slightly smaller horse, tan with white socks and a black muzzle.

"Trapper-" The horse bucks behind him, almost knocking over the rake, "he's a little feisty, but.." Heather explains as she pulls at his bridle to calm him down. She rubs behind his ear and he settles down. "He's got a soft spot behind his ear," she chuckles.

She puts him in a stall opposite from Domino. Then she repeats her actions. She walks in with a smaller version of Domino, only it's a dark gray with white on its muzzle as well. "Who's this?" Steve asks.

"Rhett, Domino's son," Heather states. She leads him into the stall next to his mother. "Grandpa had agreed to breeding her with a neighbor's horse a few years back." She pats Rhett's crest affectionately and leaves the stall so he can eat. She leaves and comes back with Storm.

"I believe that we've already been introduced," Steve says.

"Yep, Storm." Steve looks at Storm and turns to look at Trapper. "Before you start, no, they aren't related. Although, they could be cousins three times removed, because there's a stallion around here that farmers love having their mares breed with but.." Heather looks at each horse thoughtfully, "And Storm is too young to be his mother."

"Oh.. okay." Heather leaves and returns with a brown horse with a wide white stripe down his face. He's the largest Steve has been shown. "Who's this big guy?" He asks, daring to pat the brown coat.

"Atlas," Heather states, "he's the workhorse, also gone to a few festivals for us. Most were blue ribbons," she leads him to his stall, "we didn't raise him though. He switched farms starting all the way South. He was bred down there. He arrived at this farm when I was.. Ohh.." Heather thinks, "fourteen? But he's a keeper."

"Interesting backstory," Steve states. Heather closes the gate to Atlas' stall and looks at him.

"That's right, every horse here has a story. Be right back with Blaze." She leaves. Steve walks over to Atlas' closed stall. The horse puts his head over the gate, snorting. Steve flinches at the hot air, but still raises his hand to the horse. He feels the rough white hair on his palm and smiles.

'You've had quite an adventure,' Steve states, 'maybe I'll join it someday, right here.'

"Blaze is.." Heather stops as she walks in and sees Steve looking at Atlas, deep in thought. "He doesn't have a rider, you know," she says, catching Steve's attention. "Well, he won't soon. George is going to be leaving sometime next school year, since he's going to college," Heather states, "and Atlas won't be out in the fields for much longer."

"How old is he?"

"George or Atlas?" Heather asks, putting Blaze in his stall.

"Uhh.. both," Steve decides.

Heather chuckles, closing the gate. "George is two years my senior. We're guessing that Atlas is the oldest horse here, at twenty-seven. Horses usually live to thirty at the longest, but I have a feeling that he's going to pass that and cheat death a little longer." Steve chuckles. "Be right back."

"Okay," Steve lets Atlas turn around to eat. He turns around and sees Heather walk in with another small horse. It has a thick coat of hair, and that hair is a deep brown. It has a tan belly and black fading up from it's hooves. "Who's this?" He asks.

"Honestly.. I don't know." Heather looks at the last stall, across from Blaze and next to Atlas and reads the name, "Dollie, apparently."

"How do you not know.. Her?" Steve says, guessing the gender by the name.

"..They must have got her when I was in school. Or, heh, getting the serum," Heather admits. She leads the mysterious horse into the final stall and closes the gate. "I'll ask grandpa at breakfast."

"Speaking of which, your grandma wanted me to tell you that it's almost finished. But it probably is now," Steve says.

"Let's get going after brushing them. I'm famished," Heather takes down two brushes. She opens Atlas' stall and motions for Steve to follow her. "Brush in the direction of the hairs, okay?" She coaches.

"Yeah, I got it." Steve takes the brush from her and she goes to Blaze. They each brush three horses, then Steve watches as she takes care of Dollie. She's gentle with the horse that doesn't know her. Then they hang up the brushes.

Heather starts out of the stable. Steve follows her. They reach the porch and Heather just pulls off her boots and leaves them in the dirt at the base of the stairs. But Steve steps onto the first wooden step.

"Steven Rogers, _check your boots_!" Lucille yells, nearly screeching, from inside the house. Steve cringes and immediately takes his foot off the step. Heather stifles a laugh at his reaction.

Steve takes his boots off like she did, asking, "Is she always like that?"

"She's strict about manure and mud in her house. She keeps it very clean. You could eat off the floor." They walk passed the screen door and see a feast before them on the table and counter. Heather goes to the sink and thoroughly washes her hands. Noah comes in behind them. Heather sits down and starts loading up her plate.

"Heather," her grandpa scolds, chuckling.

She looks up, "Oh." She puts her fork down. Steve and Lucille join them, the woman of the house wiping her hands on her apron. The family folds their hands and closes their eyes. Steve does so too, missing this part of meals. He hasn't done so in awhile, the reason alluding him.

"Thank you Lord, for this fulfilling feast, and the beautiful hands that made it," Noah says, "And thank you again for the presence of our granddaughter. Keep her safe in her new life and help her spread your Word to all she encounters. Amen."

"Amen." Heather looks up and gets back to her plate filling.

"Who's the new horse? Dollie?" Heather asks.

"A farmer at the last autumn fair couldn't hold her back in North Dakota," Noah states, "We had a couple extra stalls, so I offered to take her in."

"Okay," That is all Heather says as she has already dug into her food.

"So, Mr. Morse-"

"It's Noah, Steve," the grandpa assures.

Steve smiles, "Noah, what kind of work is done here?"

Noah chuckles, "Not much of a country man, are you?"

"I'm afraid not," Steve admits.

Noah wipes his mouth of syrup with a napkin and sighs. "Well, we have some fields that we rotate crops through each year. There are the horses that require feeding, exercise, and brushing. There are usually a few bad storms throughout the year, which means buildings have to be fixed. There are chickens, a rooster, a handful of cows, to name a few other animals we keep here," the farmer states, "Also the missus has a garden at the rear of the house. The overall upkeep is necessary for the whole farm."

"I hear you've had a work hand from off the farm?" Steve asks. He looks at Heather as Noah finishes his next mouthful. Heather is eating as fast as she can without choking or throwing up. He's about to tell her to slow down, but then Noah speaks up again.

"Yes, George has been a big help on the farm. Almost like family. We gave him a room a few years back before he found one elsewhere, but he grew attached to the farm and decided to stay on as a helping hand."

"There have been a few of his friends that helped too," Lucille adds, "And a family used to stay all the time before that."

"But it's still been rough. We're really going to miss your help, Heather," Noah says. Heather stops a brief moment to nod in understanding. Then she's back to her plate, or more specifically, her second helping.

Steve looks at the elderly couple, "Did Heather do a lot before?"

"Oh yes. See, with all the family here, I created a rule which has stood ever since before Colin found Susan," Noah states, "first one up gets to choose their chores. And once Heather was old enough to help, she'd be the first out in the morning. With her fondness for the horses, she'd be there as she no doubt was today."

"Heather and Kate-" Heather pauses in her eating, to look at her grandmother. Heather smiles sadly before going to her food again. "..They've been wonderful helpers, although, they didn't do everything."

"I wish I could have met her," Steve says, making sure that he puts a hand on Heather's back to comfort her. He notes that it's easier to talk to Noah than with his son, back in Silven. It must be because he isn't pretending to be someone he's not. He isn't undercover here, he's Steve Rogers.

"So, how long is our Heather staying this time?" Lucille asks.

Heather looks up, "Only for the week." She gets a look from Steve. "..Maybe less."

The grandparents act surprised. They didn't know it would be so short. "Well.. I'm sure your new responsibilities are very important," Lucille says. Heather nods, almost done with her presumed third plate.

"I promise to visit as much as I can," Heather states.

"If no one is at Silven, where is Sammy?" Noah asks.

"He's with my family. They have a center for animals, although.. I don't think he's liking it.." Heather remembers dropping him off. Sammy didn't want her to leave without him. Then she gets an idea. "What if he comes to live here?"

"Wonderful. He'll love it," Lucille decides.

"Gotta go!" Heather says standing up. She almost makes it to the door.

"Heather!" Lucille gently scolds. Heather freezes, turns around, and goes back to her plate. She stabs the last bit on her plate.

"Bye!" And she's out the door, not even waiting to swallow the last piece of pancake.

The two grandparents chuckle at her antics. While Steve is a little at a loss. "That girl can hardly keep still," Lucille comments to herself.

Steve remembers what Heather told him before, about Kate talking through breakfast, but Heather wanted to get out as soon as possible. He chuckles to himself, 'You have no idea, ma'am. ..Or maybe you do.'

* * *

 **I'm sure Heather's grandparents know more about Heather than Steve.**

 **Hey, fun fact, in researching for the next one, I looked up when Heather was born (year). Apparently, the story is in year 2017. If she is 16 now, then she was born in 2001. Three years after me.**

 **It's kinda nice knowing I'm not the same age as my character. It means there's one less thing we have in common. :)**

 **Questions?**


	14. Episode 10

**As much as I'd love to post this on the actual day, I can't. I don't want to wait that long.**

 **Anyway, here we are.**

 **I don't own Marvel.**

* * *

3rd POV

Steve walks out of the bathroom, to hear singing coming from down the hall. He soaks the remaining water in his hair with a towel and peeks into her room. Heather is making her bed with her Avenger phone pressed between her neck and ear. She's singing into it.

When she's done, she puts the phone away. "Stop recording, Jarvis," she says.

"Of course, miss. Sending to Leslie Morse?"

"That's right." Heather looks up when Steve knocks on her door. "Morning!" She greets.

"Good morning. Did Leslie send you another song?" Steve asks.

"Yep," Heather puts her hat on and looks at Steve. She was downcast after they came back from the farm, but Heather got back into the swing of things sooner than even she thought she would. There's a silence over the room as Steve leans against the doorframe and Heather stands in the middle of the room.

"It's the fourth of July," Steve mentions.

Heather nods. "Yes it is," she agrees, making conversation.

"And uh," Steve clears his throat, "My birthday."

Heather instantly perks up. "Seriously? Your birthday is July four?" She asks.

Steve nods, "Coincidence, right?"

"That's cool. Hehe," she snickers, "Captain America was born on the same day as America-"

"Okay, we get it," Steve says, pausing her snickering. "I was thinking, since everyone else is at the city, we could play music throughout the house. Do you have any ideas?"

"Oh, yeah." Heather walks passed him and goes to Jarvis' console on the wall. It tells the basics, like the weather, temperature, and humidity. But it also controls a lot around the house. And at the moment, Heather brings up a list of songs they can listen to through the speakers. "Birthday boy can choose first," she offers, moving over.

"I'm sure it's ladies first," Steve says.

"Yes, well, it's your special day, not mine," Heather teases. Steve looks through the songs and chooses some songs he found from the 1940s.

"Now it's your turn."

"Permission to find patriotic songs, sir?" Heather asks.

"Go right ahead." Heather types in the songs she was thinking of. Steve looks at her list when she's done;

'American Soldier', 'Arlington', 'Angry American', 'Letters from Home', 'I'm Already There', 'Proud to be an American', etc.

There were also some songs that she's heard before that she thinks fits Steve, a little. It's kinda hard to wrap his life up in a song. Then she hesitantly adds 'Have you Forgotten' to the list. Jarvis begins to play them.

"So, what do you have in mind for your special day?" Heather asks.

"Well.. We still have to have breakfast," Steve suggests.

Heather thinks for a moment, tapping her chin. "..Do you like pancakes?"

* * *

Heather sets up the pan while Steve stirs the last bit of the batter. Per Heather's request, they are making pancakes themselves, not from Jarvis. She takes out different cookie cutters and places them on the hot pan.

"What are those for?" Steve asks, having an idea already. Heather takes the normal batter and pours it into one of the slots.

"Just watch." The yellow batter fills up one ring and the star in the middle. Then she grabs the red batter. She pours it into two of the rings. Finally, with a skillful hand, she takes the blue dyed batter and pours it into the five triangle like spaces around the star. She repeats with another pancake next to it.

"Clever," Steve notes. Heather waits until one side of the pancakes are cooked, then she takes the cookie cutters off and flips the two shields. "Is that all we are doing?"

"Well.. we could try making an flag.. But I don't think it will work out well," Heather states.

"Or normal pancakes," Steve notes. Heather thinks about it, then shrugs.

"I still want to make one that looks like my mask," Heather states.

"Whoa whoa, I thought today was about me?" Steve teases.

"Yes, but if you are making normal pancakes, we have to use the remaining blue batter for something," Heather states. So they each sit down with a shield pancake and a second pancake in the shape of their masks. "Please tell me that breakfast is not the only thing you had _planned_ for today?" Heather asks as she drizzles syrup onto the star of her shield. It flows down the sides and onto her plate.

Steve doesn't look up, "Well.. since I don't usually celebrate my birthday-"

"What!?" Heather asks suddenly. "Don't celebrate your birthday? Steve!"

"I mean, I don't have a party," Steve covers, "I get a cake for one and try to ignore Tony and Natasha's teases about my age."

"..That's got to change," Heather states bluntly, looking back at her pancakes. She cuts out a wedge of her shield, slowly chewing it. She's thinking about what to do for Steve's birthday. "You said we are the only one's here?" Heather states.

"Yes. Sam will drop by later, so we can go to the fireworks in New York," Steve confirms.

"So that's what? A good eight hours?" Heather adds.

Steve hesitates, "..Yes.." he says slowly. Heather inhales her food, much like when she was at the farm. "Whoa, where's the fire?" Steve asks.

Heather wipes her mouth and deposits her plate and fork in the dishwasher. "Be right back."

"What are you doing?" Steve asks as she goes to the stairs.

Heather turns around, "Changing," she says, motioning to her purple sleep top with a magenta sash and the gray and white sleep bottoms. She then turns back to the stairs and disappears from sight.

Steve finishes his food listening to the music playing from Jarvis' speakers. Just when he finishes, Heather comes bounding back down the stairs. She's wearing red, white, and blue for the holiday.

"Here's the plan, you are going to have fun whether you like it or not," Heather says, crossing her arms and looking at Steve.

"..Okay," he says, not sure where she's going with this.

"Then come on!" Heather grabs his arm and almost literally drags him out the door. She lets him go and he follows her to the training barn. Heather walks over to the Sim and picks up both her blue glasses and Steve's silver ones.

"Heather.." Steve says hesitantly, "what are you thinking?"

She hands him his glasses, "you choose any plane you want and I'll follow on any adventure you pick," Heather tells him, setting hers on the bridge of her nose.

"What?"

Heather groans. "Come _on_ , there's gotta be something you want to do, that you can't do now."

Steve thinks, then gets an idea. "Jarvis, activate the Coney Island plane."

"As you wish sir," Jarvis says. The machine starts up and the room fades to black for the pair. Then the glasses show an amusement park.

"Nice choice," Heather states, looking around, "But.." She notices something is different. "..Steve..?" She asks, flipping the scenario so she is the hesitant one.

"What? I'll never get to go to Coney Island in the 1940s again," Steve says coyly. Heather watches the generated NPC like people walking around, like an ordinary day at the park, almost eighty years ago.

Heather sighs, then looks at Steve again. He's wearing brown dress pants with a couple creases down the front and a tan collared shirt. "What are you.."

Then she looks down at herself. She's wearing a dark blue skirt that is pleated from the hem to halfway up the fabric. A white blouse is tucked into the waist and tied in the front. And she can feel the stockings and shoes on her feet.

"Steve!" She whines. She crosses her arms, "Was this really necessary?"

"Is it bothering you?" He asks, teasing lightly.

Heather crosses her arms tighter and looks at the ground to her right. "..No," she states stubbornly. She sighs, "So what are we doing first?" She looks up to ask, uncrossing her arms. Steve looks around, then spots something in the distance. Heather follows him to the cotton candy stand.

"I know it won't do anything, since it isn't real," Steve notes after getting them a cone, "but I thought it would help the experience."

Heather takes a piece and puts it in her mouth. "You know," she says, licking her fingers, "I've never been to Coney Island before."

"Never, huh?" Steve asks. Heather shakes her head. She frowns when her hair bounces on her cheeks, like they are put up in a hairstyle, where she distinctly remembers leaving it down. "You said we'll have fun?" Steve asks. Heather nods.

He leads her over to one of the many rides. They stand in line, which is strange because they are technically the only people there. But they finally get in. Heather clicks her seatbelt as Steve finds his.

Then the car starts going up the track, slowly. It takes forever to reach the top of the first drop point. Heather hasn't been on many rollercoasters, and while she isn't afraid of heights, the suspense makes her sick.

Heather watches the ground get smaller at every clack of the wheels. "Uhh.. Steve..?" She asks, looking at him. He just smiles.

"Hold on," he says casually. The coaster finally makes it to the top and it doesn't even stop for a second. It plummets down the track at an increasing speed. And Heather screams the whole time. Then it levels out and turns to the left, curving around and up. Heather's screams morph into whoops of joy. Steve joins in and the NCP riders do the same.

"BEST! JULY FOURTH! EVER!" Heather yells at the top of her lungs.

* * *

Sam, Heather, and Steve arrive at the coordinance Natasha sent them. She had chosen where they would watch the New York City fireworks show in the evening. Natasha and Clint are already there when the truck trio arrives.

"Hey everybody!" Heather says as she gets out. She sits on one of the blankets spread out.

"Hi Heather. Happy birthday Steve!" Clint says.

"So how old does this make you?" Natasha asks as Steve and Sam sit on the ground. Steve gives her a look of annoyance, but she smirks.

Heather smiles slyly and decides to fan this flame a little. "Well," she says aloud, "Steve was born in 1918, right? So that means that he was... about twenty-seven when he fell into the ice in 1945."

"Why don't we just watch the fireworks," Steve suggests.

"Steve, they won't start for another fifteen minutes," Natasha says, defending Heather.

"Thank you," Heather says, "So.. seventy years later, he'd be ninety-seven. And given the two years between being thawed out and the uprising of Hydra again.. That means.." Heather looks at Natasha, who put the pieces together before Heather started talking.

Everyone is dead silent. "What does that mean?" Clint finally asks.

Heather gets an eye full of Steve staring at her, hoping she won't tell. But boy was he wrong. Heather takes a deep breath and proudly states, "Steve is one hundred years old!"

Steve groans. "So, what does it feel like to have lived a century?" Natasha asks, acting like a reporter with a microphone and everything.

"This isn't going away any time soon," Sam declares.

"I understand my age," Steve says, irritated after listening to the girls tease him for a few minutes, "but it's not like you need to rub it in."

"Right, we're sorry," Heather says, not entirely meaning it. She kinda liked being on Natasha's side of the argument for a change.

Steve looks at Natasha to echo what Heather said. "She said 'we.' That speaks for both of us," Natasha says, motioning between them.

"You aren't really sorry, are you?" Steve asks.

"Not one bit," Natasha states, turning around.

"Fireworks are starting," Clint says, saving Steve from more bantering with Natasha. They all sit back or lay on the incline to watch as the beginnings of the show.

They all ooh and ahh at the many designs and colors. And then the finally starts. Near the end, a surprise burst of fireworks comes off of the almost finished Avengers Tower in the distance.

They burst into red, white, and blue colors, spelling out, 'HAPPY B-DAY, CAP IS 100!'

"It's in all caps," Natasha snickers, "I wonder why."

"Tony must have helped with the fireworks," Sam comments.

"Or he'll have to explain why he decided to contribute," Clint adds, "Who knows."

Heather leans against Steve's shoulder, "Happy birthday, Steve."

* * *

 **I did not know that it was his 100th until I did the math AFTER deciding to find out his age. It just happened to work out perfectly.**

 **And for those that will look through the comics and other places and say 'Hey! That's not right!' Well, I will tell you right now that I don't care. This is how I have it, and this is how it will be. I'm not changing this. Cap is 100.**

 **Questions?**


	15. Episode 11- Part One

**I'm back~! And I have a two part episode for ya'll!**

* * *

Heather is roused from her sleep by an insistent string of warbles. She opens her eyes and looks at her alarm clock. But it tells her that there is still a few more hours before she has to get up for training. The sparse light coming out of the window confirms it.

"Ms. Heather," Jarvis says.

"Jarvis..?" Heather asks, rubbing her eye as she sits up.

"I was told to inform you that another Hydra base has been found. You are needed at the Quinjet." Heather moves the covers off her legs and lays back down, still drowsy from the Fourth of July party the night before. The rude yet necessary awakening didn't exactly help. She pushes off the bed with her left hand and falls towards the ground. But she catches herself before her chest touched the floor.

She stands up, the strange jolt she received giving her new energy. "Where is it?" She asks.

"Somewhere in Europe, I believe." Heather goes to her closet and sure enough, Tony returned her uniform. But it's a little different. To accommodate for the warm weather, her sleeves were shortened to only over her biceps with a white mesh under her arms.

She admires the new jacket for a moment, then puts her hair up in her braided bun. Heather puts on the new red, white, and blues, finding that there are a few extra details that he changed. The color was much darker.

"There is a message from Mr. Stark, Ms. Heather," Jarvis says.

"Go ahead," Heather says as she puts on her mask.

"Heather," Tony's voice comes through, "Do you have your license?"

"..Yes, but I've never used it," Heather states, "And I didn't bring it with me. Why?" She opens her door.

Tony's voice follows her to the hallway, "Get down to the Quinjet. There's another surprise for you. ..How's the uniform?"

"I'll expect a few wounds on my arms, Stark," she quips.

"Har har, I thought you'd like it," Tony snarks back, knowing she does.

"Why is it so dark?" Heather asks as she walks through the living room.

"Light sensitive fabric. Good for stealth. In dark it's basically black. In light, the bright flag colors you and Cap lean to," Tony explains. Heather leaves the house and jogs over to the Quinjet behind the barn.

Mostly everyone is there. Steve is talking to Tony, holding an extra shield. Heather walks over to him. He turns to her and hands her the shield. "I forgot it in the barn, didn't I?" Heather asks rhetorically. She sets it on the magnetic clamps on her back, turning to Tony. "What's the surprise?"

He and Steve move out of the way to reveal a sleek dark blue motorcycle parked just outside the Quinjet's hangar. "That.. is yours," Tony says. Heather walks between them and marvels at the bike.

"We're still waiting on a couple people, and there is still stuff to load, so get used to it for a little while you wait," Steve suggests. Heather straddles the bike. She has been around Steve when he was cleaning his bike, so she got some good tips on how to use it. She turns it on and rolls it away from the pair. She starts accelerating. She takes off straight, then turns left so she's parallel to the barn's wall. She keeps at a mild pace, getting a grip for the controls. Then she turns after the garage going between it and the house. She turns again to pass in front of the garage.

Sam is coming out, so she slows down to talk to him. "So, Stark finally showed you," he comments looking at the bike.

"You knew?" She asks.

"I helped. You needed some transportation on the ground," Sam states, "Just as long as you know how to use it."

"I've been practicing," Heather states.

"For a few seconds," Sam counters, crossing his arms over his armor.

Heather sits up straight, "I'm a quick learner. Want a ride?"

Sam gives it a moment of thought, then his wings come out and he takes off into the sky. Heather shakes her head to herself and finds her way around the barn and back to the Quinjet.

"Heather, you forgot something," Steve says as she coasts up to him.

"What?" Steve hands her a helmet. It is painted like her mask around the lenses, only there isn't a white star. Where her mask ends fades to black around the rest of the helmet. She puts it on, fitting nicely.

She shuts the motor off and guides it up the ramp next to a pair of motorcycles. The ramp closes as everyone walks on. Bruce hands Heather a bag. She sits on one of the metal chairs and opens it.

'Breakfast. Thank you Bruce.' Heather starts eating, keeping her pace slow.

"Alright team, gather 'round," Steve says, getting everyone's attention.

He's standing near the cockpit, so Heather just turns to his direction while still sitting down. Everyone else is standing, waiting for Steve to continue.

"Here's how this is going to go. Same procedure as last time, only Heather and Clint will be going inside to shut off the main artillery and open the doors. Everyone else is in the field for the distraction. Except of course, Dr. Banner, who will be ready with medical supplies for the injured."

"Will I be in the distraction at some point?" Heather asks.

"Think about the mission at hand, not ones in the future," Steve says, evading her question. Heather leans back and bites into her breakfast again.

* * *

"Arriving at the drop zone," Jarvis says from the speakers. Clint and Heather stand up. They mount their bikes and watch the ramp go down. The terrain is rocky, with walls coming up on either side of them.

"Let's go," Clint says. Heather accelerates down the ramp next to him.

"Hey, why don't you have a helmet?" Heather asks.

"I need to see, not have my sight restricted." They weave around some clumps of rocks. "Good, keep your balance," he advises as they get closer to the compound.

"I don't need a teacher right now!" Heather states, knowing there is something more important she should focus on. She sees Hydra agents coming to face them. She takes her shield off her back and sets it in the front of her motorcycle. Steve showed her this feature on the way to the drop point. Bullets ricocheted off the shield.

Clint puts his motorcycle on autopilot, which Heather's does not have, and takes his bow out. He shoots a few of the agents from higher up. Heather slows her bike down, turning it to the side. In doing so, so takes off the shield and throws it around her body at the remaining guards. It hits them in the chest and Clint picks off the rest.

"Good," he states as she calls her shield back. They park their bikes where they won't be seen. Heather slams her shield into the lock, opening the door to the compound. Clint goes it first. Heather follows into the hallway, taking out her knive for close combat.

An alarm goes off. 'Well that's new,' Heather tells herself. They press on, but don't get far before they see soldiers. They fire at the heroes the moment they are in range. Clint shoots an arrow their way, then backs up, allowing Heather to take the lead. He covers her back as she goes after the closest soldier.

The Hydra assailant goes down and the next is soon to follow. Clint takes out a third one when Heather dodges a bullet. The last two rush at them, their weapons empty. Heather knees one of them into the wall and knocks the final one out with the blunt pommel of a knife.

"Come on," she tells Clint, the sirens still raging above them. Heather watches her back as Clint leads them to the control room. He kicks open the door and three guards inside receive incoming arrows. Heather looks away from them, feeling bile build up in her throat. She swallows. "This looks like the place."

They find their positions to shut off the outer defenses. But then the sirens stop and soldiers shout behind them. Heather turns around to see a flood of black with red insignias rush through the door. She and Clint ready to fight. The Hydra soldiers ready their weapons in case the heroes move to escape or finish their mission. A few soldiers walk forward and force the heroes to drop their weapons and move away from the controls. Heather wants to attack, but a look from Clint tells her to stay put. It isn't the right time yet. The speakers softly crackle to life.

"You've been expected," a voice says from seemingly nowhere. Heather stealthily turns on her comm. Steve hears it from his side of the communication. "Heroes doing their duty."

"Brock Rumlow," he growls to himself. Natasha looks up from where she was assailing the enemy from behind the safety of a boulder.

* * *

Heather itches to show the Hydra goons what she thinks of them patting her down, but Clint is right. Now isn't the right time. They are outnumbered. They need to be smart, not hasty. When all her weapons, which aren't much, are confiscated, her hands are tied more firmly behind her back, wrists crossed by her tailbone. Clint takes a little longer. Then they are marched down the hall, away from their mission. Heather glares at any of their escort that thinks it's a good idea to look in her direction.

Heather is unsure of where they are headed, but it becomes clear as the smell starts to gradually get worse. The final doors open and the sight she was met with before is back, like deja vu. Prisoners practically crammed in the circular jail cells, bruised, bleeding, or both, make sounds that Heather wishes would never have to come from a human being. Utter despair radiates from the room, which stretches forward and to the left. And this time, instead of their liberator, Heather may as well be one of them.

She is marched past cell after cell. She sees the faces look up at her, pleading. She sees many different eye colors that might have been once bright with life, now dull from time treated as an abused animal. Heather sees bloody spots on their skin or carefully placed bandages, almost camouflaged into their skin, proof of the experiments Hydra does. These people are nothing more than lab rats to the organization.

'And I'm letting them down,' Heather says. She doesn't break eye contact with the people, because she isn't going to walk by without acknowledging that she sees them. Then Heather is roughly forced to stop. She's in the heart of this prisoner junction. There are no doubt more than one, due to the size of the compound. She looks away from the cells to see a middle aged man in front of her, wearing a black uniform, like the others. Except he is wearing a black t-shirt with a bulletproof vest over it instead. He has a comm on his ear. And his face is mangled, burnt and twisted. 'I'm guessing it matches his heart,' Heather muses dryly in her head. Now is not the best time to speak, even she knows that.

"Look what we have here," he states, walking forward. Heather connects him as the man speaking earlier. He completely ignores Clint and inspects Heather. Two soldiers firmly hold her in place as their superior takes his time to look at the familiar colors on this new hero. "Those are the captain's colors," he comments, quiet enough that only she can hear.

Heather resists against her restraints, but doesn't show her full strength yet. She doesn't know if they know, so she can use that to her advantage. She hopes her comm is still on.

"Look everyone," the superior Hydra agent addresses the people around him, "Look at your would be rescuers. They thought they could outsmart Hydra, but Hydra is everywhere. We learn, we adapt. And it's only a matter of time before the whole world comes to realize that the pain will have reward for their rightful leaders."

"You underestimate the Avengers!" Heather yells back. Rumlow slowly turns to look at her. They are locked in a staring contest, and Heather is not going to back down. Rumlow walks over to her. He raises a fist and her face snaps to the side. Heather tastes copper in her mouth. Then Rumlow's fist buries itself in her gut. Heather doubles over it, gasping. She coughs as he brings himself to his full height. The soldiers behind Heather still hold her up, but they more or less hold her back as well.

Heather looks up at the Hydra agent that hit her, glaring. Rumlow stoops down so he's at her height, as she is still forced forward. He looks into her eyes, "You are just like the other person that wears that uniform." Rumlow looks below her eyes and his roam, performing another inspection. Heather doesn't like his stare and wants to use a free foot to kick him away. She readies her foot, but then he stands up, out of range. "Take her to a private cell. I'd like a word with her later."

Heather glares as they start to pull her back. She struggles against them, but they get reinforcements by a few more soldiers. They put a gun to her head and side, making it hard to move without permission, or getting something blown off. Heather looks at Clint, who is restrained more so as well since Rumlow spoke. He nods, "You know what to do."

They turn her around and start to march her from the scene. She looks at the people on either side of her, those scared, in pain, and locked up like animals waiting for the slaughter. 'They are not animals,' Heather sternly tells herself. They don't stop until they leave the room. The door closes, the thud reverberating through the entire room.

Rumlow turns back to Clint. "Don't touch her," Clint warns.

Rumlow walks over to him. He chuckles, "She is going to be a great addition to the ranks of Hydra." He turns to the soldiers waiting for instructions. "Break him."

* * *

 **Rumlow's back! The Avengers are in trouble.**


	16. Episode 11- Part Two

**Here we are, right where we left off.**

* * *

Steve throws his shield at oncoming Hydra soldiers. It hits one at a time after knocking the previous unconscious. Two evade the disc and get close enough for hand to hand. But they are quickly kicked into the line of fire for Shield agents allied with the Avengers. After almost reaching the base, Steve had ordered a retreat. The artillery won't be down yet, and they need to hold out until it does.

Steve catches his shield and holds it in front of him, protecting his body from a spray of bullets. He backs up more until he's next to a larger boulder. He throws his shield one last time and ducks behind the rock, pressing his back to it. Natasha is kneeling next to him, using the same rock for protection as she reloads her wrist gauntlets and guns. His shield comes back, hits the boulder farther back in the terrain, and is called to Steve's magnetic glove.

"I shouldn't have sent Heather in again," Steve says aloud.

"You couldn't have known this would happen," Natasha says calmly.

"We shouldn't have used the same tactic twice," Steve continues, "It was a foolish decision, they saw us coming."

"There wasn't any other way," Natasha replies. She uses a smaller rock as a footstool and shoots at enemy soldiers over the large boulder. She ducks down again.

"She doesn't have enough training to get out of this alone," Steve stresses.

"How do you know?" Natasha asks, finally looking at him.

"It's Rumlow, Natasha. I'd know his voice anywhere," Steve states.

Natasha gauges the look in his eyes, "..He's in your nightmares, isn't he?" Steve goes quiet, signaling that she's right. Steve throws his shield out, disarming a few soldiers and knocking a few more back. Natasha stands up again and shoots at the group coming behind the ones Steve took care of. Steve catches his shield and gets back to the safety of the boulder.

"He tortured Buck.. And if we can't get in there, he'll torture Heather, too."

"Heather can handle this-"

"She's just a teenager, Natasha!" Steve argues. Natasha gets down from the footstool and looks at him. "..He's an assassin. He won't hesitate to kill, and she's.." Steve around at the agents on their side. "She shouldn't even be here.."

"She's going to need help, I know," Natasha states, a hand on his shoulder, "But until that help comes, she can handle this."

* * *

Heather walks down the hallway stiffly. There are two soldiers holding her arms back, even with the restraints. Two more hold guns trained on her; one at her head and one at her side, like before. The final two walk in front or behind her. 'Hydra must love the number six.' Heather watches which halls they turn down, how many doors until they change direction, and the number of agents they pass. She glares at those that think they can look her in the eye. Some glare back, others look away.

When it's only her and those six, she makes her move. She slams her head into one of the soldiers behind her, knocking him out. A guns fire, but she moves out of the way. The bullets from the gun at her side hit the other soldier with the gun at her head. His bullets, aimed for her head, graze her temple, hitting the wall. The second person holding her arms is harshly kicked back. She slams one gun holder to the wall, pinning his trigger arm. The soldier walking in front turns around at the commotion, and aims for Heather. But she ducks again, the bullet hitting the soldier walking behind. One of the soldiers pulls her from the wall, freeing their fellow soldier.

"Freeze!" Three guns are trained on her. She tenses her hands and wrists, still bound behind her back by handcuffs. She can see two of the standing soldiers in her view, and the other one is behind her.

Swiftly, she jumps up, tucking her legs to her body. Her arms go under her feet, coming in front of her. All three guns fire. One bullet hits the handcuffs, breaking the link between them. One hits the wall, passing under her feet. And the third hits her shoulder, tearing through a less padded chink in her armor. "Gah!" escapes her mouth as the bullet tears into her skin. She lands and looks at one of the soldiers in front of her.

She runs at him and knees him in the chest. She grabs the gun from his hand as he doubles over and drops to the floor. She gives the gun she is holding one look and tosses it down the hall, out of reach. She turns to see an agent take out a knife. She doesn't have hers, so she draws one from an unconscious soldier's belt.

She has to duck to avoid the first few swipes. The pattern her opponent is using is too aggressive, he won't be able to keep his balance. Heather times her attack just right, slicing into his hand. He drops his knife. Heather holds her hand out and catches it mid air before he can grab it with his other hand. She puts him in a headlock, turning so he's between her and the final soldier.

"You won't escape," the free soldier states, "Cut off one head, two more shall take its place."

"With the Avengers, it's 'take down one member," Heather stops to count for a second, "..seven more rise against you,'" Heather retorts.

"They won't get here in time to help you," the soldier replies back, aiming for Heather. Heather adjusts her captive so she's protected.

'The system isn't down yet, they can't come to help,' she remembers. ' _You know what to do_ ,' is what Clint told her. '..Yes I do.'

Heather presses her arm closer to the soldiers throat, cutting off his air. He falls limp in her arms, unconscious. She then shoves him forward at the final soldier. He jumps out of the way. Heather spin kicks him to the ground. Then she stabs one of the knives into his leg armor. It hits his leg, but pins him to the floor.

She looks at his head, keeping him secure. She opens her mouth to interrogate him, but she doesn't get the chance. "Hail Hydra," he states. Then he moves something in his mouth and bites down hard. Heather watches his face contort in pain. His body reacts to the poison by writhing in its place. His mouth foams, and then he's still.

Heather stares at him a moment. Then she stands up and looks at the other soldiers strewn about the hallway. half of them are shot, two are unconscious, and one killed himself. She looks at her hands, dropping the knife still in her possession. 'Snap out of it,' she scolds, shaking her head, 'You have a mission to complete.'

She goes down the halls that she remembers. There aren't as many agents as before, which she's thankful for. Her shoulder and temple are starting to throb. When she arrives back at the control room, there are guards at the door.

'Drat.' She hides behind the corner, thinking. Then she makes a small noise. Sure enough, one of the guards comes around the corner to investigate. She covers his mouth with a hand and muffles his yelp. She cuts off his air and he slumps to the floor. The rest of the guards walk over to assist him. But they are also taken out just as quickly. She goes into the room and closes the door. The controls are right where they left them before.

She's still shaking from the adrenaline. It's a rush, but she doesn't entirely like it right now. Her stomach is still churning from the events with her escort. She shakes a little bit of it off as she rushes to the controls. Clint isn't here to do his part, but she had time on the Quinjet to look it over. Plus doing it before with Natasha jogs her memory a little more as well. Heather goes through the process and sighs of relief as the system goes down. She looks at the video feed of outside; Nothing changes. Heather looks at all the controls, but it's all off.

'Then why-?' She adjusts one of the cameras to look at the guns. They are still shooting, there are flashes coming from the barrels, but nothing is coming out. There isn't a spray that hits the ground. 'I need to tell them.' She lost her comm, but maybe she can use something here. Sure enough, she finds an emergency microphone and turns it on. "Cap! The systems are down! Those guns are fake!" She screams into the microphone.

* * *

"I repeat, THOSE GUNS ARE FAKE!" Heather yells again through the speakers. The whole battlefield hears. Steve looks out. The guns are still moving and making noise, as if they were shooting out at the enemy. But when he looks on the ground, there is no evidence of their bullets.

"I'm going in," he tells Natasha.

She nods. "I'll join you as soon as I can," she replies back as Steve moves back to where the rescue squads are waiting. They have their engines ready. Steve commandeers a motorcycle from one of the agents, who instead goes to a truck. Steve's motorcycle is back at the Quinjet, too far away and Heather needs him now. He starts off in the lead.

'After that announcement, no doubt Heather will draw attention to herself.'

* * *

In the prison system, a soldier taps on Rumlow's shoulder. He tells his superior officer about Heather's announcement from the control room. Rumlow shoves the soldier away, turning to look at the ground seven feet in front of him. His burnt face looks down at Clint, who is still trying to stand up. A Hydra soldier kicks him again, forcing him to lose balance and fall to the concrete. Clint has bruises and cuts all over his body, including a few wounds that need immediate care. And if he's correct, he'll need medical attention for internal bleeding, too.

Rumlow smirks, "How the mighty have fallen." He grabs the collar of Clint's black and purple uniform, pulling him right up to his face. Clint can't hold back a painful grunt. He wants to just let go, pass out, relieve himself of the pain inflicted on his body. But he can't let them win. "Now to find Cap's girl." Rumlow shoves him back to the floor and leaves Clint in the hands of his soldiers.

* * *

Heather had moved to the hallway when soldiers arrived to capture her. She knows that she had shaken the beehive, and the worker bees are not happy. She fights off a few soldiers that were closer to her position than the rest of the hive. A metallic buzz brushes by her ears, so she ducks. A shield flies over her and hits the soldiers she was fending off. The shield goes back to its owner and Heather stands up. She turns around to see Steve walking down the hallway. Another group of soldiers arrives. Steve takes them on, punching the final soldier in the face. He stops next to Heather.

"Are you alright?" he asks. He looks at her temple, where there is a burn streak from a bullet, and a little dried blood. Then he sees the excess of blood oozing from her shoulder.

"I'm fine- ow..!" Heather yelps. Steve had moved her shoulder for a better look. "I'll live," she assures him.

"I think the bullet is still in your shoulder," Steve says.

"I'll get it out later," Heather notes, gently rolling her shoulder. She regrets the action, wincing again. Footsteps echo down the hall. Rumlow turns the corner and walks towards them. The two super soldiers glare him down as he gets closer. Heather notes that he has her shield on his back, like a trophy.

" _Brock Rumlow_ ," Steve growls, his fists clenching. If Heather didn't know any better, she'd say that Steve's knuckles were white.

"Captain Steve Rogers, did you miss me?" Rumlow asks casually, like they are old friends. "I see you've gotten yourself a sidekick. It's adorable." Heather grinds her teeth together, her fists matching Steve's. Whether he called her an it, sidekick, or non-threatening didn't matter. He's going down.

'Keep calm, just show him what you can do,' she tells herself.

Rumlow cracks his knuckles, "I'm going to enjoy this, and later."

Heather senses that Steve is put off by Rumlow's, so she doesn't stop him as he starts forward. He leaves his shield on his back. Steve is the first to land a blow, hitting Rumlow on the jaw. He ducks, dodges, and counters as Steve doesn't give him an opening. But then he gains some ground. Steve holds his arms down, so he can't move. Heather sees this and runs ahead. She steps off Steve's shield, flips over the pair of fighters, and eyes her shield.

She clamps her solid grip onto the edges of the metal object, her feet planted on Rumlow's shoulders. "I believe this is mine!" She yells, pulling it right off his back. She rolls to a landing and turns around. Rumlow kicks Steve back and turns to Heather, taking out his gun. She blocks with her shield. Steve rushes at Rumlow, but he receives a mean uppercut. His distraction does allow Heather a moment to throw her shield at Rumlow.

But he turns around just in time and catches it. "Who do you think taught the Winter Soldier to do that?" Rumlow taunts. Steve gets off the floor at the mention of his best friend's former alias. Rumlow turns and the the shield into Steve's chest. Rumlow turns around to face Heather again. "Looks like you need some practice, little girl," he taunts. The glint in his eye makes Heather want to puke. "Let me show you!" He aims to throw the shield at her.

Heather adjusts her stance, taking a deep breath. The shield comes at her lightning fast, but she's ready to show Rumlow just how much she's practiced. She moves over so the shield goes past her left side. As it does so, she turns, sliding her glove into the handle underneath. Steve slowly comes to his senses, watching from behind Rumlow. Heather pulls the shield around her body and slingshots it back at Rumlow. It hits him in the stomach with twice the force he intended for her. The shield comes back to Heather, who slides it in place on her glove.

Rumlow looks up shortly after the attack, but Heather is there. Her pent up anger comes out in a loud grunt, and she slams the star on her shield into his nose, effectively knocking him out. He slides to the floor, blood coming out of his nose.

Heather pants to herself. Steve stands up and moves over to her. Heather leans against his side, shaken after the mission. "Does.. does he have a 'kill pill' too?" She asks.

Steve looks at her. He can only assume that a Hydra agent used their cyanide pill in front of her. "No, he's too important." Heather closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths. "C'mon," Steve says gently, nudging her shoulder, "there's still the main part of the mission we have to finish." Heather nods and they start jogging down the hall to the prison system. Then Steve looks around. "Where's Barton?"

Heather stops. 'Oh no!' She starts running, "C'mon!" Steve follows her. Double doors to their left burst open. But it's only SHIELD agents, with Natasha leading them.

"Is Clint alright?" She asks.

"Just come with us," Heather says, barely stopping.

* * *

Heather bursts into the prison sector she was brought to. She passes all the people, finding Clint in one of the cells near the middle. "He's here!" She yells. Natasha is the first to arrive. She looks at Clint, beaten and bruised. She cups his cheek gently. 'Please be alive..' Heather hopes and prays.

Clint coughs and cracks a swollen eye open. Steve, and now Sam, stand behind the girls. "…Did we win..?" Clint asks hoarsely. Everyone chuckles lightly.

"Not yet," Heather says. The group backs up so SHIELD agents can help him onto a stretcher. Everyone splits up to help the people out to the medics; to safety. Heather finds a little girl she locked eyes with before. She squats down next to her. "Hello," she says softly. She waves a little. After a moment, the little girl waves back, her hand covered in grime. "Let's get you out of here," Heather suggests, offering her arms to hold the girl.

The girl tries to stand up, but falls. She yelps in pain. Heather simply leans over and scoops the girl into her arms. She stands up and winces at the pain running up her arm. But she ignores it and starts walking to the exit.

She finds the stretcher that Clint was placed on once she reaches the field where the victims are being brought. She sits next to him, waiting with the little girl as one of the doctors is finishing with another patient.

"You did good," Clint manages to say. Heather looks back at him, and smiles.

"Get some rest," she replies.

She looks down at the girl as she starts to whimper at everything going on around her. Heather smoothes the hair away from her forehead and kisses it.

"You'll be okay now," she whispers.

She looks up. Doctors are still getting ready for the flood of patients coming down the hill. Heather can point out the Avengers by their brighter colors. But something else catches her attention.

In the distance, out a side door, SHIELD agents carry out forms wrapped in white cloth to trucks. A convoy of trucks starts off from the door, carrying the forms out of sight. Heather gulps to herself, the pit in her stomach filling with bile at what they reveal.

"The heroes saved the day," she tells the girl, forcing herself to look away.

* * *

 **Yay! Mission 2 accomplished.**

 **But Heather sees something that makes her sick.**


	17. Episode 12

**Here is back at the Ranch, post mission.**

* * *

3rd POV

The whole team is sitting in the main room of the Avenger House, save one. They are all waiting in uneasy silence. Steve and Bruce had taken one couch, while Heather and Tony are sitting in the arm chairs. Sam leans against the wall next to the opening into the kitchen. Thor stands with his arms crossed behind the other couch. And finally, Natasha is pacing the open space.

They each look up at the blank tv at uneven intervals; waiting for a call from the SHIELD hospital.

"..We could have brought him back here." The first person to penetrate the silence is Natasha. She stops pacing and looks at every other person in the room in turn.

"We've been over this, Natasha," Steve says, tired of the debate, "That was out of the question. We couldn't bring the doctors with."

"But Bruce could have helped him," Natasha states.

"I may be a doctor, but I would rather leave the serious injuries to those that have medicine as their main study," Bruce says gently. Natasha doesn't argue back. She stands still for a moment longer before going back to pacing.

"Avengers, there is an incoming transmission from Mr. Barton's coordinance." Jarvis' voice pulls every face to look up.

"Answer it," Natasha says immediately, turning to face to tv. Her hand comes down on the back of the couch.

"Of course."

"Hey, is this thing on?" Clint's voice suddenly fills the room. Half of the Avengers cheer out loud at his voice, while the rest do so inward. "Uhh.. guys, are we connected?"

"We hear you well, archer," Thor states heartily.

"Jarvis, bring Clint onscreen," Tony commands. The tv lights up and the team can see Clint's face and torso, lying in a hospital bed. His face has a few bruises on it, but other than that, he looks fine.

"How do you feel?" Steve asks.

"Well.. I have multiple stitches, a few numb spots, and my rib cage keeps reminding me that I'm breathing.. In a way I don't entirely like." Clint groans a moment, shifting his position, "But the doctors say I won't die so.. There's that," he answers.

Heather chuckles, "Well, that's good to hear."

"So.. I've been through surgery, what have you all been doing?" Clint asks.

"We got back a few hours ago," Natasha states formally, all masked worry for her ally and friend well hidden. "We underwent the after mission routine and then sat down to wait for the call."

The routine usually consists of showers, storing supplies, changing out of uniforms, and checking over wounds again. Bruce and Steve manage the last department, since Steve knows field medicine in case of an emergency. He's been instructing Heather, ever since she helped Clint with patching up her brother.

"My part of the routine didn't take too long, did it?" Clint says, mostly teasing.

"..No, not really," Heather states, serious. Clint takes that meaning that they've been waiting awhile.

Clint looks away from the camera, which is on his deep purple Avenger phone. He listens to someone, then looks back to the group. "I can't talk for long, another doctor visit. This is just a recuperation from the last one. So I suggest we make the most of it."

"Back on Asgard, after a glorious battle, fellow warriors would regale tales of glory and valor!" Thor states.

"This would be the perfect moment to explain what happened in Budapest," Tony says, looking over at Natasha.

She narrows her eyes at him. "No," both Natasha and Clint say at the same time.

Tony shrugs nonchalantly. "Alright, if it's so embarrassing, I won't be able to get it out of you," he sighs. He smirks, looking at his next target; Steve. "But it can't be nearly as embarrassing as Capsicle's blunder," he says, jabbing his thumb in Steve's direction.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Steve states. He crosses his arms and looks at Tony, unwilling to know which embarrassing story Tony has brewed.

"Really? Because my dad wouldn't stop talking about this one. Let's see if I remember.." Tony taps his chin. "Something about.. France? And.. a plane ride... Fondue was definitely in this one-"

All of a sudden, Steve's face blushes bright red. Heather sees the change and bursts out laughing. She's never seen Steve so red. "What are you talking about Tony?" She asks him.

"We aren't going to talk about that," Steve says pointedly. Tony leans over and whispers in Heather's ear what Steve thought 'fondue' meant. She snickers, blushing a little herself on his behalf.

"Tony, why did you tell her?" Steve asks.

"I'm not some innocent little girl, Steve," Heather states, "I know very well what Bryce did with those girls."

Steve's shoulders sink low. "I'm never going to live that down.. Am I?" he asks, downhearted.

Heather sighs, "Probably not."

"You know, Heather has an interesting tale too," Natasha states. Heather instantly knows what the ex-assassin/SHIELD agent is referring to. She shoots her a venemous, 'Don't you dare' look, but Natasha _does_ dare. "Heather's afraid of sweet potatoes-"

"Tasha!" Heather yells, not even bothering to say her whole name.

"What?" Clint says, reminding everyone that they are still connected. He's starting to chuckle but with his injured ribs, he mutters, 'Ow,' a few times.

"I don't believe you," Steve says, looking behind him at Natasha.

"Is it really true?" Sam asks Heather.

Heather looks around the room, then sighs. She nods her head in defeat. "But! Let me explain." She takes another long sigh, "As Steve knows, I was allergic to carrots. Mashed carrots and mashed sweet potatoes look the same. So, just to be safe, I never ate sweet potatoes, because they could be carrots in disguise."

Tony bursts out laughing at this.

"Hey! I was little alright!" Heather yells at him, "Anyway, after I got the serum, I now love carrots, but for some reason, I still absolutely refuse to eat sweet potatoes. So there," Heather crosses her legs and doesn't meet anyone's eye.

"That is the weirdest fear I've ever heard of," Natasha states.

"Well, you've got to have one," Heather spits out, not looking up.

"I don't," Natasha says proudly.

"Yes you do," Clint states matter-of-factly.

"If you so much as open your mouth, I will-!"

"You can't threaten me. I'm injured, and you owe me. Plus, you wouldn't mangle a teammate. ..Would you?" Clint asks.

Natasha stares at him from her side of the screen. Then she looks away, "Just get it over with.." she mutters.

"Natasha has, coulrophobia."

There's a brief silence. "What kind of fear is that?" Heather asks, looking around the room. Not even Tony knew. Clint chortles to himself a little. Natasha sees his face and mutters vehemently and ruefully in Russian, no doubt a long string of curses to why she told Clint her phobia to begin with.

"It's the fear of clowns," Clint explains. Heather bursts out laughing, not expecting that from the Red Room hardened ex-assassin spy. She looks up, still in a fit of giggles. She sees Natasha's if-looks-could-kill glare and she stops, looking away with a childish grin on her face.

"I am the Thunderer. I am not scared of any man or beast!" Thor proclaims.

"But Thor are not too fond of falling," Jarvis casually informs the group. Everyone looks at Thor, shocked.

He shrugs under their gazes. "I am thankful to possess the power of flight."

"How did you get that fear in the first place?" Sam asks, now standing closer to the group.

"When I fell from the helicarrier, being tossed through the Bifrost.. Times like so," Thor states casually.

"I guess we aren't a bunch of fearless heroes," Heather points out, "We each have some type of fear inside us."

"Not me," Tony states proudly, "I'm not scared of anything."

"Except spiders," Sam doesn't hesitate for a second to tell that fact to the group. Tony feels a gaze on the back of his head. He slowly turns to see Natasha, a smirk growing on his face.

"..You know," Tony says, trying to shrug it off, "the big kind, that eat people whole. ..That _don't_ exist," he makes sure to add in that point. But he isn't very convincing with the tone of nervousness in the back of his throat.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Tony," Natasha says, keeping her smirk as she looks away.

"My point still stands, no hero is perfect," Heather repeats. Everyone agrees with verbal affirmation or silent nods of their head.

"I gotta go everybody. See you when I'm brought back," Clint says. They say their goodbyes and the tv turns off.

They sit in the silence for a moment, before Heather snorts to herself, which in the quiet room was louder than she intended. "Fondue? Really?" She asked Steve. He sends her a look much like Natasha's before. Heather sees it as she's laughing. "..Heh- sorry," she says, sobering much faster than before. She ducks her head to avoid his gaze. She hears him sigh to himself.

* * *

 **None of the fears are canon. ..That I know of. I know I didn't get everyone in there, but *shrugs* Only the people that spoke out saying 'I have no fear' were embarrassed. The others know better than to allow someone to express their fear publicly.**

 **As for Heather's. ..I just thought it would be kinda funny. But it is not a 'serious' fear, if you know what I mean.**

 **How do you like it?**


	18. Episode 13

**Here's the next one.**

* * *

3rd POV

The training dummy leans back from the force of Heather's attacks. She turns to kick its left side and then strikes its center with her right elbow as it comes back. She stands there a moment, the dummy's padded stomach bouncing against her elbow as it swings to a stop.

She breaks out of the stance and wipes her brow. There's hardly any sweat, but that's acceptable. She never got as big of a workout from the dummy as she did using Tony's Mental Landscape Simulator. But.. he said she couldn't use it for the past couple days. When she asked why, he told her it was some kind of upgrade. He had even deactivated it to work on the upgrade.

If he hadn't, she would be using it right now, working up a sweat against simulated Hydra agents and their diabolical plans. Heather rubs her nose, which still held the sting of one of Sam's punches. They had sparred earlier.

The doors to the basement lab open and Tony walks out. "Heather, come here for a second," he states, not even looking up at her.

Heather slowly looks at him. "Why?" She asks.

"I need your help with something," he states simply, typing something into his pad.

Heather walks over. She stops a few feet away, crossing her arms. "Why should I?" She asks, peeved that he hasn't looked at her.

He finally does, "It has something to do with the.. Sim," Tony says, wrinkling his nose at the nickname. Heather tilts her head, looking at the box behind him. She nods in agreement. "Perfect. Put on your Simulation Glasses," he directs. She walks over and places the blue glasses over the bridge of her nose.

"What exactly am I testing?" Heather asks.

"You'll find out," Tony states, eluding the explanation for the moment, "Jarvis, activate Reality Plane."

"Right away, sir." Heather watches the black pixels dominate her vision, just like any other time. But once they completely block out the barn, she feels as though her arms and legs went numb. Her head throbs a little. She opens her eyes, looking at her surroundings.

She's in a desert. Sand stretches for miles. The sky is inky black, with numerous stars peeking through. Jagged rocks puncture through the blanket of yellow, yielding shade from when the sun is out, but not for long. Heather is on a sand dune, shifting with the wind. "..Where am I?" She asks herself. She slides down the slope. Her foot catches on a rock hidden in the sand and she stumbles. Her head almost collides with the nearest ragged rock. She turns around and leans against it.

"Country Lass, report," Steve's voice comes through her comm set.

'Comm set?' Heather feels her ear. Sure enough, the small communication device is there. She looks down at herself; sand colored kevlar hugs her form, practical and protective.

"Country Lass," Steve repeats.

Heather remembers where she is. 'Mission.' She recalls the plan, but wouldn't be able to tell what the room looked like, or how long ago it was. "This is Country Lass. I'm at the checkpoint, over," Heather says after touching the button on her comm.

"This is all you, Lass, remember," Steve states. At that word, Heather recalls the rest of the mission. She has to infiltrate a secret bunker and take something that they need. If she succeeds, then the world is saved.

'No pressure,' Heather mentally mutters to herself. "I'll see you soon," Heather tells Steve. She turns her comm off.

She scoots around the rock to see if anyone is coming. Then she takes off into a sprint. The bunker is close. She stops behind another ragged rock. A jeep passes her, the people inside dressed in green and tan.

She waits until they are gone, then sneaks to the opening of the bunker they came through. It was completely covered in sand before it opened. If they didn't come through, Heather would never have seen it.

She reaches back for her shield, but finds it not on her back. 'Right.. I can't be associated to anyone. The shield would place me with the Avengers. Not that I will be seen, but.' Heather grabs the handle that was carved into the door and pulls. Using all her strength, she tugs it open.

She dives through the opening as it starts to close. She rolls behind a barrier as someone comes to check it out. She silently goes around the barrier, out of view from anyone in the room. The door she needs to go through appears in front of her. She pushes it open and slips inside.

After multiple hallways and even more chances of being spotted, Heather makes it to the room she needed to find. There it is; the scepter. Gold with a blue stone, just as Thor and Steve described. 'Everybody wants the magical powerful stuff,' Heather quotes Tony in her head. She walks over. It seemed easy enough. It's not like-

Right as she touches it, alarms go off around her.

"Seriously!?" She yells at herself. She grabs the scepter and slides it into the empty sheath on her back for carrying it. Guards are waiting for her as she leaves the room.

Two start toward her, but it doesn't take too long for her to take them down. The other four circle her, but she picks them off one by one until they are unconscious on the floor.

She runs through the halls, feeling the bruises from the fight. 'They are only bruises,' she tells herself. Guards arrive at the end of the hall.

"Stop!" One tells her in an accent that sounds foreign to her. She presses faster. Apparently they don't want to shoot her.

'Why?' She mocks silently, 'Is it because I'm a girl, or because I'm young?' By the time they make up their mind to take her down, she barrels past them, turning the corner. She hears gunfire behind her and takes another turn. She stops right at the corner, breathing heavily. She sees the entrance and runs to it.

"STOP THAT THIEF!" Someone yells over the sirens. Heather doesn't look behind her. She pulls the lever to open the door, then sprints to it. She has to reach the door before they reach the lever. The door creaks, stops, and starts closing again. She shifts her weight and slips through the small opening it has once she gets there. They slam behind her and she's in the cool dry air of the desert again.

When she's sure she isn't being followed, she slows her pace to a walk. She's sweating, despite the chilly night. She's also tired, after running all that time. She finds the checkpoint rock again. She takes the scepter off her back and lays it in the sand. She puts her hand up to her comm.

"Cap, mission accomplished," she pants, "Ready for extraction."

"On our way," is his response. Heather releases her comm and her hand falls to her lap. She looks up at the night, and soon the stars fade away, the desert fades away.

Heather opens her eyes, looking around. She's in the barn, on her back, staring at the ceiling. She blinks a few times from the brightness. Her simulation glasses are still over her nose.

Heather slowly sits up, feeling where her bruises formed. She sees Tony standing near her. "..What happened?" She asks.

"What do you remember?" he asks, his fingers poised to type on the device.

"Well.. I had a mission, but.. Wait, no I didn't," Heather looks at Tony, "I was on a dune, but I-"

"Don't remember how you go there?" Tony asks. Heather nods. "Do you remember the meeting?" Heather shakes her head. "Did you remember going into the simulation when it started?" Heather shakes her head again. "You aren't messing with me, are you?" He asks.

"No, Stark. I don't remember how I got to the mission checkpoint or why I had to get the scepter in the first place. I.. I don't even know what it is!" Heather says.

Tony cheers to himself. He dances around for a little. "I did it!" He says louder.

"You did what?" Heather asks.

He sobers up to answer her question. "You told me before that it would be better to have a simulation where you don't know you are in one. That you are unaware that it is just training. That is what I did. I made the simulation seem like reality."

"That is awesome Tony!" heather says, mock excitement in her voice. "Can I use the Sim now?" She asks immediately after, more serious and less interested in his breakthrough.

Tony gives her a dark look, thinking she'd be more excited about the technology. "..Yep," he says, turning away. He has another project to work on.

* * *

 **What do you think of the new simulation? Would you like to use it if you could?**

 **Here's a serious writer question: Do you think the transitions in and out of the simulation were decent? Or was it too confusing?**


	19. Episode 14

**Okay, okay, I know I said 'Only 3rd POV from here on out' but I wrote this before and it sounds better switching between them.**

 **So here it is. Hope you like it!**

* * *

 _Heather's POV_

"Never?"

"Never."

I continue to tap at the computer, sitting on the bench in the training barn. "Really?" I can't believe Steve's statement.

And he's starting to get annoyed by my unbelievability, "Yes, really. I've never been to Disneyland." He continues with his workout. I scoff and bring up another window. "But I have been to Coney Island," he adds, reminding me of when we went to the virtual Coney island for his birthday.

"Well, I think we should go," I say.

He sets down the weights and sits up to look at me. "Go where?"

I finish typing and look at him. "Disneyland." Steve just stares at me. "What? Don't we deserve a few personal days?"

"Avengers don't _get_ personal days Heather."

"How long have you been doing this?" I ask.

He takes a minute to figure the number, "About.. ..Including the seventy years of ice?"

"No."

He nods and thinks again. "Well- Uhh.. almost ten years?" He guesses.

"You need a break," I decide.

"What are you doing?"

"I just _finished_ ordering day passes for both of us for two days at Disneyland."

Steve stares at me again. "You didn't."

"I did. Well, Jarvis did. I simply asked him to."

"Jarvis, refund those tickets," Steve orders.

"Request denied."

"That wasn't a request, Jarvis, it was an order," Steve says.

"I apologize, sir, but you cannot simply refund two tickets of that caliber." Steve deflates, exasperated. "Have some fun and relax on your vacation sir. If there is some entity that humans believe in that I have no way of processing, I'm sure he would agree."

Steve looks at me. I shrug, "Well, looks like we are going."

Steve sighs, shaking his head, "You.."

"Cheer up, Steve," I say, bringing my laptop with me, "It's vacation."

* * *

 _Steve's POV_

"Where should we go first.." Heather scans the map she got before we left. She's sitting in the passenger seat of the car Jarvis rented for us. "Ooh! Space Mountain! No no no, Indiana Jones Adventure. Unless it's full, then we can detour too.. Hehe, Star _Tours_." She giggles at the play on words. I just roll my eyes.

"how about stopping at the hotel to drop off our stuff?" I ask.

"Of _course_ that is first," Heather says, "But afterwards, when we are in the park." She turns the map around, looking at the different sections of the park. "Oh wow, there's a Jedi Academy.." she squints at the page, "show. We could go to that at lunch-"

"Why don't you focus on being my navigator so we can even reach the park at the time you want to?" I suggest.

"Right!" Heather tries to fold up the paper, but just throws it in the back and looks at the map of this part of California. "Turn left at the next exit." We stay silent as I look for the sign. As I make the turn, I look at Heather, she's back to looking at the Disneyland map.

"Heather.."

"Sorry.. skip the next two exits, the one you want is on the left saying Disneyland park." I turn again. "See? I told you we'd get there."

I sigh to myself and follow the signs to the hotel parking. I show our tickets and we go inside. A bellboy shows us our room. "Thank you." I take our bags, which isn't much, and walk in. Heather runs right to one of the beds and flops down on top.

"WE MADE IT!" She proceeds to squeal. I'm about to tell her to calm down, but then she sees the window. She makes a beeline for it and squishes her nose against the glass. "You gotta see this."

I walk over. "..Whoa.." Our window is higher than most of the park, so we can see over a good distance. I see the major areas.

"Steve." I look down at her. She is stares at him, teasingly. "I can see that look."

"What look?"

"That look that means you are calculating something, working on a plan."

"You were trying to figure out where to go first. That's-"

"-Not what you were doing." She pats my shoulder before turning away from the window. "Just.. relax, Steve. You're at 'the happiest place on Earth.'"

I look out the window and see a sign that reminds me about something she said in the car. "Hey Heather? What was that ride you mentioned?"

"Space Mountain?" She asks.

"No no, the other space one.. Uhh-"

"Oh! Star Tours."

"Yeah. What's that about?"

* * *

 _Heather's POV_

I look at the map and then look around. 'Buzz Lightyear's Adventure is there,' I look up and swivel my head to the opposite side of the street. "Found it!" Steve sighs behind me. "When are you going to cheer up?"

"When I have a reason too."

"Here's the entrance for us." I walk over and show the employee my wristband. He sees Steve's and lets us in.

We enter the line right by the robot and luggage. He's 'talking' to us as we snake our way through. Then we reach the big screen which has ads for different star systems. There's a joke about Wookie cookies and I can't help but giggle. I look at Steve, and he's smiling a little.

"You get it?" I ask. He nods.

"Yeah, Chewy," he remarks. We hear a few more planets commercials and then it we walk into the room where we are supposed to wait and get into the Star Tours ride. While we are getting our glasses, a couple stormtroopers stop us from passing.

"Halt," one says. Steve tenses, but I slip my hand into his and squeeze it. He calms a little. "Where are your identification cards?" I show him my wristband, and Steve follows my lead. "Those are not your identification cards."

"You two will have to come with us," the second trooper says. I think of something rather nerdy, and reckless.

I pass my hand in front of them and say, "You don't need to see our identification."

After a moment, one looks at the other and repeats, "We don't need to see their identification."

I smile and say, "We are not the people you are looking for," doing the same hand motion.

"They are not the people we are looking for," the other stormtrooper says.

"Move along," I finally say. The stormtroopers wave at the entrance to the ride with their blasters.

"Move along, move along." We walk past them and sit in our spots.

"What just-"

"It helps to know the movies," I say, slipping on my glasses.

Steve leans over as the doors close, "Did you actually-"

"Nah, they were acting." I can't help but have a small sense of pride that they went along with it. 'That was so cool!'

* * *

 _Steve's POV_

"Your turn to choose," Heather says. I look at the map. We've already gone to Star Tours, Space Mountain, and a couple other rides. I choose something not in the sci fi area.

"That one." I read it, "Small World."

"Oh! Okay. Let's go... this way," Heather takes off. I follow her to the boat ride. We get in a boat and the bar comes down to keep us inside. The boat moves forward and I look at the opening we go towards. I can hear the music already.

' _It's a small world after all, it's a small world after all.. it's a small, small, world.'_

I look at the different sets on either side of us. We pass America, and there is western stuff, with a few Toy Story characters. "You watched-"

"Yeah, I did," I whisper back. The ride finishes slowly. Heather comments more than me. But it does finish.

"That was awesome," Heather says as we step out.

"Yeah," I agree.

"It's a real eye opener," she adds.

"Mm, hm," I say, walking to the exit.

"What's next?" I look back to see she's already at the map. She points. "Indiana Jones Adventure. We're going there. I heard the car you are in reacts like a person would in a vehicle. Like.." She fumbles for the words to describe it as we walk there. The line is long, even for the fast passes, so she holds our place while I get us a few snacks. I join her after and hand her the ice cream.

We finally get to the ride itself and I see what she means. The car looks as if it has eyes and the wheels are on a track, but could be pulled back if it chooses. "Are you sure this is safe?"

"Steve, it is a ride at an amusement park for kids. Of course it is safe." Heather sits in her seat and I sit next to her. The ride starts out and I enjoy every thrilling second of it. The statue comes up. I know that it isn't real, but I look at Heather. Her eyes are squeezed shut, grinning at the excitement.

The car comes to a stop and we get off. "Now where?"

Heather looks at me playfully, "Wanna meet a couple princesses?"

I smile back, "No."

She loses the grin, "Fine. It's about lunch anyway. To the Space Cantina!" She starts to walk off. I shake my head and catch up.

* * *

 _Heather's POV_

I wanted to do the Jedi Academy thing, but I was content to watch the little kids learn the lightsaber from from the actor and then fight Darth Vader. I know I'd be able to do it pretty well. The actor behind the mask wouldn't have to go easy on me.

I take a bite out of my burger and look around. There are a couple of stormtroopers walking around, and I spot a wookie behind them. I tug on Steve's shirt without looking away and point to him. "Let's get a picture."

"Well.."

"Oh, come, on, Steve!" I blurt slowly, "Don't you want to meet a wookie?"

"It isn't an actual wookie," he points out. I give him my 'really?' face.

"Let your imagination take over for a day or two. Right now, that is a wookie and I'm going to get a picture with him whether you come with me or not." I pick up my camera and start going. I hear Steve groan behind me and catch up. I walk right to the man in the suit. "Hi," he looks at me, "Would you mind if we get a picture." He shakes his head, no, and motions for Steve and I to pose. I hand a person nearby the camera and hug the wookie.

"Rrawwwaaa!" The wookie costume projects. The camera flashes and we get the camera back. I look at the picture and giggle. The wookie has Steve in a loose head lock and he looks like he was going to take it off.

"Did you mean to do that?" I ask. He shrugs, grinning. We sit back down and finish eating.

* * *

 _Steve's POV_

Heather walks into our hotel room, a little sunburned and exhausted. Her burns will disappear sooner than mine. She insisted we stay up for the fireworks show and I couldn't say no to her puppy dog eyes. Seriously, she's learned a thing or two from Sammy before we left him at her grandparents' farm.

I walk in behind her and set the various objects we got from a few shops on the table. I look back at Heather and she's on the bed she claimed, grinning softly. "Steve.. This is the best vacation ever.." she says, staring at the ceiling. I sit on my bed and take off my shoes. I then go to the bathroom to shower and change, but then I hear, "I wish Kate could have been here.." and I stop.

I turn around and see Heather leaning against the headboard, her smile gone. I walk over and sit next to her. "She is, Heather," I say. Heather looks away from the window and back at me. "She's right here," I point to where my heart is, "in you." She places a hand over her own heart and smiles.

"Thanks Steve," she says. She leans over and hugs me. I hug her briefly until she moves away. "And you smell."

"So do you," I tease back. She waves me away.

"Then hurry up and shower, I need a turn." I stand up and walk away. "And remember, we have another Disney filled day tomorrow!" She calls as I close the door to the bathroom.

* * *

 **And there you go, Steve has been to Disneyland, Happiest Place on Earth! (Well.. except for all those lines!)**

 **Now all I'll be doing is 3rd POV. Everything else has yet to be written out.**

 **See ya next time!**

 **~CtW**


	20. Episode 15

**Remember when Heather changed Tony's coffee to force him to get some sleep? Well...**

 **That was the only time-or only thing-she did.. :J**

* * *

3rd POV

Heather pulls her arm across her chest as she exits the house. She walks down the porch, aiming to get some training done in the barn. But as she comes off the last step, she looks up and stops.

No one was around. True, it was only two hours past the very crack of dawn, but Steve was usually up by then. She was mildly surprised earlier to not see anyone in the kitchen, but the dead silent gravel area around the buildings was even more strange.

Heather takes caution as she walks across the expanse. Nothing happens by the time she reaches the barn doors. She pushes one open and steps inside.

"Heather Morse," Tony's voice booms through the space from Jarvis' speakers, "Today, Steve has assigned me to oversee your training today."

"Why can't Steve do it?" Heather asks.

"..He's busy." Heather thinks about this, then shrugs. It makes sense, since the other supersoldier isn't anywhere to be seen.

"What am I in for today?" Heather asks, walking to the center of the barn.

"Do you remember when you swapped my coffee all those times? Or painted my Iron Legion bots bright colors!?" Tony is now yelling, his anger obvious.

"Okay, first of all, I switch it to decaf because as much as we aren't fans of each other, you can't afford to pass out near a lit blowtorch. ..Like last time," Heather states, smug near the end.

"How did you know about that?" Tony asks.

"Jarvis told me," Heather answers, crossing her arms. She can't tell where his voice is specifically coming from, so she just looks up at the top half of the wall. "You also had little scorch marks in your hair."

"You crossed the line by touching my inventions."

"That was because you rigged Jarvis to play 'All American Girl' whenever I walked into a room," Heather states, irritated at the memory. It took an entire playlist, almost four hours to get that song out of her head.

"Well, since you were so.. Helpful, with redecorating my projects, perhaps you should test them out," Tony decides. The door to the lab opens and three Iron Legion bots fly out. One is blue, one is green, and the other is pink. "And why didn't you use red like a sane person!?" He asks, referring to the pink bot.

"Is pink your first choice when choosing what color to paint with?" Heather asks sarcastically. She backs up a little as they come closer.

"I wonder if you can defeat them?" Tony asks.

"Why?" Heather asks.

"Consider it payback. Now, they will try to contain you, keep you from moving, and you have to disable them. If you do, then training is over."

"If I don't?" Heather asks.

"Then you are a chicken, Bawk bawk!" Tony clucks through the speaker, "Good luck!"

Heather takes her shield off her back and looks at the Iron Legion bots as they hover in a circle around her. The only sound is from their repulsors. She waits in the silence. "..So, are we going to start, or do I have to provoke them?"

Blue Bot is the first to move toward her. Its metal fingers curl into fists and it stops flying. The boots hit the floor, a loud thud echoing from the impact. Heather matches it move for move, keeping on defense. She knows better than to punch hard metal without gloves. The robot is good at keeping up with her.

Heather ducks as it swings again, and sweeps it's legs out. It crashes to the concrete floor. Heather chuckles as it struggles to get up, stuck on its back. "I thought they'd be better than this," she comments, seeing it almost stand, but then fall back.

Tony sighs through the mic, "They are more meant for air.." he admits, a whine in his tone.

"That needs to change," Heather says. She walks closer to Blue Bot and slams the edge of her shield into its faceplate hard. The metal crunches under the force and the machine shuts off.

Pink Bot is next, staying in the air this time. Heather watches it circle her, then throws her shield. It makes a generous dent in Pink Bot's metal chest. Pink Bot shoots repulsor beams at her, but Heather either blocks them with her shield, or ducks out of the way.

Heather runs at the wall. She builds up momentum to run up the wall a few steps and flip off of it. She turns and slams her shield into the dent she made. Pink Bot turns off and falls to the ground. Heather leaps to the closest thing so she doesn't suffer the same fate.

She slams into Green Bot. She holds on for dear life as Tony pilots the robot around the room. She's holding onto it's front. Tony continues to try to shake her off. Heather loses grip with one hand. She dangles by her other, then uses the next turn to propel herself onto Green Bot's back. Again, she presses herself to the metal so she isn't flung to the wall, or floor.

Heather looks up briefly, trying to think of a solution. Then she sees the back of Green Bot's neck. It has a cluster of exposed wires. She smiles, daring to let go with one hand to reach for them. "This looks important," she states aloud. She uses all her strength to yank at them.

The robot shuts down. Heather jumps off, toward the large open area. She rolls on her side to break her fall. She hears the final bot crash into something and she smiles, despite the sweat on her brow and a few new bruises.

The doors to the lab open again and Tony walks through, steam nearly coming out of his ears. "Do you know how expensive these are!?" He asks her, continuing his rant for a few good minutes. Heather sits up and listens. "You should be thankful that wall is Hulk proof or I'd have to fix that too!" Tony finishes.

"..What did you expect me to do? Not stop them?" Heather asks.

"Yes!" Tony states, like it was obvious.

Heather stands up, "I guess you don't know me as well as you thought, Tincan," she states, using her nickname for him. "By the way, the wires were exposed, the armor is needs to be stronger, and they need to be a better fighting force on land," she states, listing off the errors she found. "You've got your work cut out for you. You're welcome!"

Heather leaves the barn. Tony shakes his head, looking at the floor. 'I should have known...' He thinks ruefully.

* * *

 **Heather tends to surprise.**

 **I do not own the song 'All American Girl' but I recommend you listen to it. It's pretty good.**


	21. Episode 16

**Time to put Heather to a real challenge, one that has been hinted at throughout.**

* * *

3rd POV

Clint was finally allowed to come back to the Ranch. He's still out of commission, but he can walk around a little. He was even overseeing Heather's training when Jarvis told them of a mission debriefing in the house.

They shut off the Sim and go meet up with the others. Heather stays slow so Clint doesn't strain himself. They walk into the large room with tables, chairs, and the board in the front. Heather sits down. Steve is standing in the front, a map on the board.

"This mission will be over in Europe," Steve continues, "We'll be in two groups, Thor is in Asgard, so it will be me and Sam, and then Natasha and Tony."

Tony looks at Natasha nervously. "..Can we trade?"

"What's wrong Stark?" Natasha gives him a side glance.

"I would just rather work with someone that-"

"Doesn't scare you?" Natasha asks.

"I was not going to say that!"

Heather would have smirked, chuckled, or teased Tony at that moment, but something else takes a hold of her mind. "What group am I in?" She asks Steve.

The group goes silent. "..You aren't coming, Heather," Steve answers.

Heather stares at him a few minutes. "...Oh," she says, confused, "Why not?"

"This.. this isn't a mission you need to be apart of," Steve lies.

Heather notes that he isn't telling her everything, "Is it about Bucky?" She asks.

"No," Steve answers carefully, "If it was about Bucky, only I would be going, with Sam."

"Then what is it?" Heather asks.

Steve looks at Natasha. She shrugs as if to say, 'Might as well.'

Steve looks at Heather again, "There is an area in Europe where Hydra is being more open about their cause. The Avengers- us- are going their to settle it. To stop them from causing more havoc."

"Why can't I come?" Heather asks, "I've helped against Hydra before."

"This isn't a rescue mission," Steve says gently. It seems like he is the only one in the conversation.

"But I'm an Avenger. I should be allowed to come." Heather is about to argue further, when she notices the quiet following her words. Not that the room wasn't already quiet, but it was different. Everyone stared at her like they knew something important, and Heather didn't. "What? I am," Heather states, pinning their stares to her first statement. She looks around the room, at each of the faces. She looks at Steve.

"..No, Heather," he says, firm, but soft, "you aren't."

Heather is shocked to silence. She stares at him, and he stares right back. After a few moments- hours to her- she bursts. "How am I not an Avenger!?" She asks, standing up. She knocks her chair over at the action. "I have an Avenger phone, I live here, I am a super soldier, I go on missions."

"Heather, you are still a teenager. Remember I told you you won't be doing this forever," Steve says, trying to soothe her temper. "You are not an Avenger."

Heather's face falls from anger to dejectment. She looks at the others assembled again, hoping for support. "Guys.. help me out here," she pleads.

"..You don't have a lot of experience," Natasha states, "you are still learning."

"This is very dangerous," Clint puts in, "remember what happened last time?" He motions to his own injuries.

"This isn't some game," Tony decides to add, "you aren't mature enough to handle this kind of stuff."

Heather looks at Sam. "..If you couldn't handle what you saw at the last mission.." he says, fading out. Heather remembers seeing the caravan of corpses, the utter hopelessness and despair those people had to live through, the conditions. Sam looks her straight in the eye, "then you can't handle the task of an Avenger."

Heather looks at Bruce, but he doesn't say anything, just avoids her gaze. "I've had training," she tells them, not looking at anyone in particular, "I've proven myself, in battle. I have experience. I didn't throw up at the mission. Sure I didn't like it, but I shouldn't! I understand the dangers, why do you think I took the serum. I know it isn't a game," she shoots a look at Tony, "I'm serious when I need to be. Telling me to grow up faster than I should isn't healthy."

"If you don't want to grow up fast, then you might be in the wrong business," Natasha states.

"I'm not some.." Heather struggles to find a good description of her situation, "Some.. Junior member!"

"Heather, you are staying at the Ranch with Clint until we get back," Steve commands.

"..I don't think so," Heather turns on her heel and walks out the door, fuming. She turns to the stairs and walks up. The adults know where she was headed because of the slam of her open door. Steve goes out of the room, followed by the others.

Up in her room, Heather takes out her backpack and stuffs things inside. Some clothes, her hair brush, and other toiletries. She puts her shield on her back with the harness, but leaves her Avenger phone on her bed.

She then walks down the stairs, past everyone without so much as regarding at them. She goes out the door, to the garage. Finding her bike, she stores her second bag in the container attached to the back.

"Where are you going?" Heather looks up at the voice. Sam is standing near her, waiting. She stares at him a moment. He was asking with irritation. He was asking out of curiosity. Like asking what she did over the weekend.

'Steve isn't the one to talk me out of this,' Heather muses, 'He knows I'm mad at him the most. Smart.' She looks away from Sam, "I need to clear my head."

"Are you going to follow to the mission?" Sam inquires.

"No," Heather states truthfully. She gets on the bike and it revs with life. She sits there a moment, and Sam doesn't leave. She looks up at him. "Why did you get my my US AVENGER hat.. If you knew I wasn't an Avenger?" She asks him. She thought that he would side with her, being the one that gave her recognition with a gift.

Sam doesn't meet her eye as he says, "..I guess I wasn't thinking."

Heather's eyes grow wide. Her hand reaches up to her head. She pulls the tan hat off, her hair coming free of the ponytail through the opening in the back.

"You being an Avenger would be like a private becoming a Navy Seal," Sam tries to explain.

Heather looks at the hat, rubbing her thumb over the letters on the left side of the band. Then her eyes harden and she tosses the hat at Sam, who wasn't fully paying attention. He looks at it, crumpled in his gloves.

Heather sets her helmet on her head. "Where are you going?" Sam asks again.

Heather takes a deep breath, tightening her grip on the handlebars, "My constant in rough waters."

Sam knows he won't get anything else out of her. "Don't do anything stupid, alright?" He cautions, teasing as well.

Heather notices he's in his uniform. "As long as you don't get yourself killed," she retorts through the helmet. With that, she drives off.

Steve walks over to Sam after seeing Heather's bike roar out of sight. Sam turns to greet his friend, who is also ready in uniform. "Heather needs some time to herself," he informs the super soldier.

"She's sixteen, Sam. She shouldn't be alone," Steve argues, still agitated from the argument earlier.

Sam thinks carefully about what he's going to say next. He looks at the hat in his hand. Steve turns to walk away. "When are you going to realize that Heather is her own person?" Sam finally asks. Steve stops but doesn't turn around. "She may be, stubborn and childish at times, and yes, she is not ready to be an Avenger," Sam adds, "but when she needs to be, she is as mature as you. She can handle herself out there. She won't do anything too drastic."

Steve stays silent, knowing that everything Sam has said is true. "Do you at least know where she's going?"

Sam walks over and pats Steve on the shoulder. "We need to focus on our mission, and let Heather focus on hers."

* * *

 **Where do you think she is going? (If it is obvious, ..It probably should be..)**

 **See you all next chapter!**

 **~CtW**


	22. Episode 17- Part 1

**After a long wait, and lots of thinking, I have concluded that Episode 17 is the last part of Country Lass Adventures.**

 **But don't lose heart, fellow readers, this episode is 4 parts long!**

 **If you have forgotten what happened last chapter, let me refresh your memory: Heather was told she was not an Avenger and left the Ranch to clear her head and find herself.**

* * *

3rd POV

The rooster's call echoes throughout the whole farm. Heather's room is no exception. She opens her eyes and softly groans at the noise. Still feeling drowsy, she pushes herself off the bed for the usual boost of energy.

She stands up immediately. She walks to her closet and chooses a plaid shirt and camisole. Her jeans are a little tight, but not enough to need new ones. She brushes her hair and braids it across her slips on clean socks, leaving all she wore to bed in her laundry basket.

Heather makes her bed, not leaving a crease in the covers. Grabbing the jacket over her chair, she slips out her door and past where her grandparents are still sleeping.

The sun is still coming over the horizon when she silently walks down the stairs. She stops and looks around the kitchen/dining room that it empties into. A golden heads raises in the corner by the fridge. It whines softly.

Heather relaxes and smiles, "Sammy.." She walks over to the open space after the table. Sammy stands up and trots over to her. "You've grown," she says, stroking his fur. Sammy is almost his full weight, but she sees the puppy in him still.

He licks her cheek when she leans in to kiss the top of his head. Heather chuckles, then stands up. She turns to walk out the door, but sees her boots all clean waiting on the mat. She puts them on with gratitude and walks down the steps.

Her short jog to the stables doesn't even faze her. She opens the doors and sees all the horses are awake. "Morning," she calls. She goes to the furthest stall and opens it. She greets the horse she met the last she visited. She leads it to the pasture, then comes back for the next.

After all the horses are outside, she cleans the stalls. The sun is blazing over the treetops, sending a green and gold luster through the stable doors. Heather puts feed and water in each of the stalls, then leads each horse back in.

She takes time to brush each of the horses, earning snorts from a few as they eat their breakfast.

With the stalls secure, she walks out the doors into fresh air. She takes a deep breath, pushing the damp hair off her forehead. She's greeted by Sammy again as she walks to the spout to clean her boots. Now that he's in a better light, she can see that he has definitely grown. ..Like she has.

She finishes washing her boots and hands, while trying to keep Sammy from lapping up the water as it comes out of the spout, then she walks up the stairs, shouting, "Clean!"

She leaves her boots on the mat. Her grandma is already in the kitchen, cooking for the day. "Routine never leaves you, does it?" her grandma asks.

Heather gives her a hug, "It's engraved into me. I can't help it. Where's Grandpa?"

"He had to talk to a neighbor. He'll be back soon," Lucille says, turning back to the stove. Heather walks up the stairs and goes into the bathroom. She takes a quick shower to get rid of the light sweat she accumulated from her chores.

She gets out, dries off. She looks in the mirror for the first time that day. She doesn't have any marks from her past injuries, but if she thinks about it, she can still feel where they are. There aren't many, a bullet wound on her shoulder or a cut on her leg.

Heather is a little taller, her muscles more defined and tone. Her hair is longer, but not in a savage way. Only because she hasn't gone to a salon in almost a year. Her face is clear of any blemishes that teen years bring. Less chubbiness of youth and more definition of a mature young lady.

She looks at herself, the person she is now. And she feels.. well, she doesn't know.

She dresses in the same clothes as early that morning and meets her grandparents for breakfast. She covers her plate in eggs, bacon, toast, and fruit. Her mouth is always full, getting everything down as fast as she can so she can get out and get to work.

Heather doesn't see her grandparents watch her, then share a look. "Heather," her grandpa says, "Why are you here?"

Heather pauses in eating to look at them. She swallows. "I promised to visit," she says, "so here I am." She turns back to her plate.

"You were exhausted when you arrived last night Heather," her grandma reminds her, "And you didn't call beforehand."

Heather stops eating and puts her fork down. She thinks back to when she arrived..

* * *

 _Heather stares ahead of her, focusing on the road. Each turn is familiar to her. She remembers the way, because she held the map on the way there last time. She doesn't leave any room for thinking about why she left. She'll sort that out once she reaches her destination. ..Or so she tells herself._

 _Noticing her lack of fuel, she coasts into a gas station. Throwing out the kickstand, she gets off the bike to stretch as she fills the tank up. She leaves her helmet on, because she knows that a sixteen year old should not be driving a motorcycle alone._

' _Must be an Avenger perk,' she decides, 'Except I'm not-' she shakes her head of the thought and pays for the gas. She gets back on the blue machine and takes off again. She drives all day, only stopping one more time to gas up. The sun starts to go down, and she's still on her cycle._

 _Finally, the sign comes into view and she directs her vehicle under it. The gravel bites at her tires, making a firm crunch underneath. But she ignores it as she slows down. Lucille walks out of the house, hearing the sounds. It takes her a moment to recognize her granddaughter._

 _Heather parks and gets off the bike. Her helmet is left on the seat. Heather walks the rest of the distance to the house. Since she's too tired to clean her boots, she just takes them off and sets them next to the steps._

" _Welcome home, Heather," Lucille states softly. Heather nods, walking up the steps. Heather gives her grandma a brief hug before walking into the house and up the stairs to the guest bedroom- her room. She takes off her jacket and falls asleep the moment her head touches the pillow._

* * *

Her grandpa clears his throat at the silence. "How long will you be staying?" He asks.

Heather looks at him. She doesn't know how to answer, so she stays silent. After thinking about how best to answer, she finally says, "As long as I need to." She picks up her fork and downs the last of her breakfast. She doesn't just want to get to her chores now, she also wants to avoid anymore questions from her grandparents. Both the ones she doesn't want to answer, or can't.

She puts her boots back on and exits the house. The horses are done eating when she gets there, so she lets them back out into the pasture. She stands next to Blaze for a little bit, stroking his mane.

Then she walks through the stable and back out the other doors to find something else to do. She sees George at the garage, so she jogs over to join. "George," she calls as she gets close.

He turns and looks at her.

"Long time no see," Heather comments, coming to a stop.

"Heather, I almost didn't recognize you," George chuckles, "Yep, getting in my last few days before I leave for college."

"Minnesota State, right?" Heather guesses.

"You know me too well," he admits, "..I missed you this summer."

"Yeah, well.." Heather digs the toe of her boot into the dirt at the weight of her secret, "I've been busy."

"Oh, I see. ..You've really changed from the last time I've seen you," George admits.

"So have you," Heather says, looking back up.

"Not as much as you," George says. "It isn't just appearance, but.." He strokes his chin, thinking. He stares at her as he tries to figure it out. "I don't know.."

"..Well, talk to you later, kay?" Heather asks as she starts to walk away.

"Yep, see you around."

Heather walks back to the pasture behind the stable. She easily hops the fence. She finds Blaze and leads him by his harness to the stable. She saddles him and leads him to the trail.

She trusts him to walk along the trail and she just looks around. The place around her makes her feel like she's been brought back in time. Like she's a young girl with her horse, having a relaxing summer at her favorite place in the world. Grandma is baking an apple pie back at the farm and she finished her chores early in the morning.

'If I look behind me, Kate will-' Heather stops that thought. She knows Kate isn't behind her. If anything, she'd be in front of her. Because Blaze was Kate's horse. And Blaze is always the lead horse on the trails.

Heather's shoulders slump suddenly. She doesn't feel young anymore; She feels old, weathered, burdened. Everything she's seen, gone through, and done pushes at her perfect image of her childhood summers.

She leads Blaze off the main trail and down one that opens into a grassy field with the lake beyond it. She stops and gets down from the saddle. She pats his shoulder, allowing Blaze to walk around on his own.

She starts walking on her own, not thinking of anything in particular. Then she starts running. She increases her speed, pushes herself faster and faster. She closes her eyes to the tears threatening to fall.

Heather isn't looking at where she is going. She trips at the slope she arrived at. She tumbles down the incline a little, until she comes to rest near the bottom. She stares at the lake before her, with a strip of sand separating it from the grass.

She stays where she is. She stares up at the blue sky with puffs of white and gray riding its wind lazily. 'What am I doing?'

* * *

 **Heather is still struggling. But with more than one thing, as it seems.**

 **Ahh, the teenage years. Add in the horrors she's seen (which I haven't really focused a lot on. ..It'll come if I revise.) and she's got a lot on her plate.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything MARVEL. But.. there isn't a lot from MARVEL in this chapter. I created the Ranch, I own Heather and her family, and the farm... *shrugs***

 **I'm uploading all four parts today, so you don't have to wait too long.**


	23. Episode 17- Part 2

**And we're back on Heather's Emotional Rollercoaster. Let's see how she's doing.**

* * *

3rd POV

Lucille notices Heather to the left of the house, with the basket of laundry. She turns and enters the house. She finds her husband there drinking some coffee. "Heather's different, agree with me on that," she says.

"..Yes. It's not even noon but.." Noah nods, "she is acting different. It doesn't take much to see it."

"She's.." Lucille sits down at the table, "she's distant from everything."

Noah looks at the calendar on the wall. "She has a right to, I guess."

Lucille follows his gaze, then sighs. "I'll talk to her." She stands up and walks out of the house. She finds Heather where she was before, pinning up the laundry on the lines. "Heather," she greets.

"Hey Grandma," Heather says, focused on her task.

"..Is there anything you would like to talk about?" her grandma asks.

"No," Heather says immediately.

"Is there something you should talk about?" Lucille asks next.

Heather pauses in her work, then starts again. "After everything, being treated as an equal, training with them, living with them, going on missions with them-!" Heather steadily increases the speed she puts the clothes on the line, "And they have the nerve to say I'm not one of them!"

"Did they send you here?" Lucille asks.

"No," Heather says, punctuating the word by letting one of the close pins snap as it's put on the line, "I came on my own."

The rate Heather is pinning hasn't gone over Lucille's head. "Heather-"

"They didn't let me go on the mission with them because I wasn't an Avenger! Why did they tell me I wasn't an Avenger now, and not before!?" She reaches down for the next piece of clothing, but nothing is there. She did it all.

"Do they know where you are now?" Lucille asks.

Heather sighs, sitting on a stump of a tree, "I'm sure they can figure it out." She silently fumes to herself as her grandma sets a hand on her shoulder. "They should have told me when I got the serum. That would have cleared this all up."

"Would that have changed your choices?" Lucille asks.

"No," Heather says stubbornly, "but that would have made all this a lot less confusing."

"Heather.. why did you come here?"

"This place, it hasn't changed. I feel safe here. I'm myself here," Heather looks up for a moment, then turns her gaze back to the grass. "Right now.. I'm not sure what that is. I guess, I'm hoping to find out."

Lucille squats in front of Heather groaning a little at the strain. She sees the pained look on Heather's face, even if she tries to hide it. She knows Heather won't want to talk about it, but she has to. "It's that day, isn't it? It's about that time?" Lucille asks.

"Grandma, I don't want to talk-" Heather whispers.

"She meant everything to you," Lucille states, firmly, "she was your twin sister by choice, Heather. Every moment of her life is charted by our heart, just like everyone else you care about, whether you like it or not. You celebrate the day she was born.."

Lucille puts a gentle hand on Heather's arm.

"And you remember the day she died," Lucille finishes with tenderness in her voice. Just as Heather welcomed Kate into her family, so had Lucille. She had lost a granddaughter that day.

"That, has _nothing_ to do with this," Heather says. She had been holding back tears for the subject before, but now her walls are crumbling and she's losing the battle. She crosses her arms, trying to calm down, to hold it back.

"It has everything to do with this," Lucille argues calmly, "Here are my questions for you; Why did you become a super soldier? And, is that your reason for being upset at not being an Avenger?"

She pats Heather's arm and stands up, leaving Heather to think about it.

* * *

"Clean!" Heather calls as she walks up the steps. Her grandma's words stuck with her. And she feels the need to just sit and think about them, even though she's all about action.

She takes off her boots and walks into the living room. She sits down and sighs at the relief it gives.

"I thought super soldiers could go all day?"

Heather looks up and sees her grandpa standing at the doorway. He walks over and sits next to her.

"I'm still getting used to being at home," Heather comments.

"You've always thought of this place as home, haven't you?" Noah asks fondly.

Heather smiles. She takes a deep breath and says, "I love it here." She leans back and words fly out of her mouth before she can stop them, "I wish I could stay here forever.."

"Is that why you came here?" Noah asks, "To stay?"

Heather realizes the full extent of her words. "No.." she says, unsure of herself.

Grandpa Noah looks at Heather, then opens his arms. Heather moves into his embrace, wrapping one arm over his shoulder and the other under his arm. He's smelly from the oil and grease of the farm machines. "You can't run from your problems, Heather," he says, understanding that there is something that chased her to the farm for security.

"But I can't face them head on, either," Heather says over his shoulder.

"Why not?" He asks with his grandfatherly wisdom.

Heather chokes up, "Because it hurts." She starts tearing up. "It hurts to argue with someone I care about. It hurts to be told I've been fantasizing about something I'm not. And it hurts to see all the inhumanity of the world, where it feels like those people are abandoned."

Noah holds his granddaughter, and Heather lets him. She falls into a dream where she's a scared little girl who fell off the saddle and scraped her knee. She buries her nose into his shirt and smells how he's always smelled like. She wouldn't be surprised if he smelled like that the first time he held her.

"What is really bothering you? It isn't just Kate, is it?" He asks.

"The world has changed so much," Heather says, still holding on, tears falling to Noah's flannel back. "When I was little seems like millions of miles away, like an entirely different world. This place is the only spot where it all is still the same. But.. I just wish.."

"She was here-"

"No," Heather decides. She moves out of his space, sniffing, "No, I don't want Kate to be here. She is in a much better place than here. This world is messed up and I wouldn't wish her to live in it."

Heather just sits there, knowing exactly where she is, but feeling more lost than ever. "Heather, what is the problem?" Noah asks, a hand still on her back.

"I.. I don't know what I'm supposed to do," Heather admits, "I thought I was an Avenger, but.. I'm not even that. I can't go back to who I was before because that's gone. So.. Who am I?"

Noah smiles at her kindly, "This place isn't the only thing that hasn't changed in your life, Heather."

Heather looks at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Look to the one that knows you better than yourself. I believe he's set you where you are for a reason," Noah finishes. He sets a hand on Heather's shoulder briefly, then stands up. "Time to find the missus." He leaves the room.

Heather leans back on the couch, "He's set you where you are for a reason.." she repeats. She looks over to the bookshelf. It's lined with different sized and colored books. But at one end, there's a book stand with a Bible sitting on it. It's one of many in the house.

Heather stands up and looks at it. She picks it up. She's never personally read it, because she couldn't before, and she was too busy at the Ranch. Plus.. she never really brought one to the Ranch.

But now, she feels the need to. To see what God's Word has to tell her. She carries it to her room and sits on her bed. She stares at the brown leather covering, not really sure where to start.

"Um.. Lord God.." she starts, closing her eyes while still holding the book, "I'm.. I'm lost.. Everything is twisted in on itself, when I think I'm bothered by one thing, it turns into being about something else. ..I need your guidance. Amen."

She opens her eyes and opens the Bible up to a page, allowing God to direct her hands to where she needs to read.

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand," she reads Isaiah 41:10.

She looks around a little more until she settles on another verse that sticks out to her; Hebrews 12:1-3.

"..and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him, he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart," Heather reads aloud.

She sits back and thinks about that. Jesus gave everything for her, he faced those that hated him, and did so to save everyone.

She goes back to the text and finds Jeremiah 29:11. "'For I know the plans I have for you,' says the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'"

She looks around, then gets up. She walks down the stairs and sees her grandma.

"Grandma?" She asks.

"Yes?"

"Do you have a notebook I could use?" Heather asks.

"Yes, dear. Look in the living room bookshelf, it should have a couple spare notebooks in the lower drawers," Grandma Lucille answers.

"Thank you." Heather finds one and goes back to her room. She opens up to an empty page and grabs a pencil from her desk. 'Isaiah 41:10..' she writes, 'Hebrews 12:1-3.. Jeremiah 29:11..'

After writing them down, along with what they are saying, she goes back to the text. She finds Galatians 6:9 and writes the verse name in the notebook.

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up," she says aloud. She reads that over again and copies it onto her notebook. She underlines 'not become weary in doing good' and 'do not give up.'

She also marks the verse in the Bible. She flips through a few pages, and finds Joshua 1:9. She reads through it, then copies it into the notebook page.

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous," she writes, "Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."

She hears a knock on the her door. Heather looks up and sees her grandma there, holding a plate. "I thought you were busy," Lucille states. She walks over and sets the apple pie slice on the bed next to Heather.

"Yep." Heather sighs, "he has a lot to say to me."

Lucille reads over the verses Heather has already found, "I can see that," she muses, "Has he suggested Psalm 37:24?"

Heather pauses for a moment and goes back to the Bible. She finds it and starts reading, "Though he may stumble, he will not fall-"

"-for the Lord upholds him with his hand," Lucille finishes.

"Thank you," Heather states, writing it down.

"..I'll leave you to your reading." Lucille leaves, feeling pride for her granddaughter for turning to the Lord in her trouble, even if she needed a nudge.

* * *

 **If you couldn't tell before, yes, Heather's family is Christian. I can't get through tough times without the Lord Almighty helping me, so I believe that He is the one that would be able to help Heather with everything.**

 **Prayer changes lives. Prayer has impact. Don't ever doubt the power of prayer. God hears you.**

 **If you have something that you need prayer for, I will gladly do that for you.**


	24. Episode 17- Part 3

**..I don't have much to say here.**

 **Onto the story!**

* * *

3rd POV

Heather strokes Blaze's coat with a brush. He twitches every so often at flies buzzing around his stall. "You miss her too, don't you?" Heather asks, stopping to stroke his muzzle. She holds up a carrot for him. He grabs it with his big lips and nibbles at the end with his herbivore teeth. "It's hard to let go of her."

After he finishes the carrot, Blaze nickers a little. But Heather doesn't understand what he's saying. Heather pats behind his ear a little, then closes the gate to his stall behind her.

She still hasn't answered the questions her grandma presented. She walks to Storm with the brush, still thinking. "Why did I take the serum?" She asks aloud. She starts to brush Storm's gray coat, "I wanted to protect my family. I wanted to be the one that saved them, to make sure they were safe. To.." she pauses, looking down, "to make it up to them, I guess.."

She stands there, looking at the hay beneath her feet. Storm brings her back to reality with a swish of her tail hitting Heather in the face.

"Okay.. okay.." she chuckles, getting back to brushing, "That isn't why I am mad at not being an Avenger. I mean, I don't have to be an Avenger to keep them safe.."

Heather thoughtfully hums, stroking the brush through Storm's hair.

"..My family was the reason I got the serum.. And now that they are safe.. Maybe.." she sighs slowly, "maybe I don't need to do this anymore. Maybe I should hang up my shield and come here.

"Or, live with my family at the SHIELD facility to make sure they are always safe. To watch my siblings grow up. And to be with my parents." She scoffs, "maybe the fact that I'm not an Avenger is a sign that my time for doing all of this is up. I'm not doing hero stuff forever."

She walks out of Storm's stall and puts the brush away after cleaning it. She looks around the stable. She walks out and looks at the chicken coops, the barn, the house, the garden, the large open space, the smell, the forest..

She loves this place. It gives her a chance for peace.

Heather walks over to the barn. She walks along its wall, chipping red paint to show through to the wood beneath. She takes the paper out of her back pocket, where the verses are written.

She looks at another she found, "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens. A time to be born, and a time to die," there was a long list for this verse, so she underlines the ones that speak out the most, "a time to kill, and a time to heal.. A time to mourn, and a time to dance.. A time to search, and a time to give up.. A time to be silent, and a time to speak.. A time for war.." Heather looks up from the paper, "and a time for peace."

She skips from Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 to Ecclesiastes 3:16.

"And I saw something else under the sun, in the place of judgement, wickedness was there. In the place of justice, wickedness is there," Heather reads. The next one below it is Psalm 97:10, "Let those who love the Lord hate evil, for he guards the lives of his faithful ones and delivers them from the hand of the wicked."

She walks back to the house.

"If I had never left with Steve and gotten the serum, then it would have taken longer for the Avengers to find my family, and all the other people we saved," Heather reasons, smiling, "and I may not be an Avenger, but that doesn't mean I haven't been doing something good."

Heather sees the sunset in the distance. She walks to the corral fence and sits with her legs through two of the boards and her arms crossed over the top, the sheet of paper in her hand. She lays her head on her arms.

"You work in mysterious ways," she says aloud. "I never blamed you for my family.. I did blame you for Kate," she admits, "And I'm sorry."

She doesn't hear it, but Heather can feel through the wind, the still air that follows, and in her heart that she has been forgiven; a long time ago.

* * *

Heather packs her backpack, smiling to herself.

"Going so soon?"

Heather turns around and sees her grandma standing there. "I have a feeling that I'm being missed right now," Heather admits.

"It's not just that, is it?" Lucille asks.

Heather walks over and gives her grandma a hug. "Being a hero like this.. It's hard. But whatever I have to deal with.." She backs out of the hug. Her grandma sees a new determination in her blue eyes. "I know I'm not alone. I don't have to rely on myself for everything."

"Then you'd best be off, shouldn't you?" Lucille comments.

Heather zips up her backpack, "I promise I'll visit as much as I can."

"Heather, I think we understand. If you are saving people instead of visiting little old us, we won't be proud of you any less. Only more so," her grandma says, setting her hand on Heather's cheek. Heather hugs her again, then they walk down the stairs.

Her grandpa is just getting his boots on for the day. He stops and looks at her. "..It's time to go back to where God needs me," Heather tells him. He nods and disappears into the living room. He comes back holding a brown leather bound book.

"Then you should have His Word, in case you need more guidance," he tells her, handing the Bible over. Heather sets her backpack on the table. She reverently brushes her hand over the cover, then puts it in the backpack and zips it back up.

Noah sets a hand on each of Heather's shoulders. "We all struggle and fall. It's a matter of noticing and allowing Him to pick us back up again. Trust in him Heather, and you will _shine_ for everyone you meet," he says.

"I will, Grandpa," Heather promises. She gives him a hug as well. She walks out the door. Sammy trots over to her, breathing with his tongue lolling out of his mouth. "Hey buddy," she says, squatting to pet him. "I can't take you with me this time, you won't fit on the motorcycle," she chuckles, "Take care of the farm for me." She kisses him and stands up. Sammy walks over to the house, and sits at Noah's feet.

Heather straddles her bike and turns it on. She looks around the farm. Chickens wander in their pens, the few cows moo in the barn, and horses graze in the pasture. The scents the crisp wind brings to her nose bring back so many memories. All the sounds of the morning help her feel at peace.

She spots Blaze looking at her. He rears on his back legs, neighing to her. As if he was saying a farewell.

'When you believe me to be done,' Heather promises, 'I'll be back home.' She sets her helmet on her head and revs the engine. She turns the motorcycle in a one eighty, making a half circle in the dirt with one tire, and drives off.

* * *

 **She's on her way back! Mission accomplished!**


	25. Episode 17- Part 4 (Last Chapter!)

**Here it is. The last chapter of this story. Now, again, don't lose heart. There will be more in the future.**

 **..More on that in the A/S/A/N. (After story author's note.)**

* * *

3rd POV

Steve looks at the exit of the Ranch again as he sits on the steps to the porch. The mission took two days. It's been one since he got back. Nothing has come through the break in the trees.

Sam walks out of the house with two cups of coffee. He sits down next to Steve and hands him one. "Thanks.." Steve mumbles before taking a drink.

"I should be dragging your butt to bed," Sam states, "you've been up all day. Don't give yourself too much credit and stay out into the night too."

Steve looks back at the trees, sipping his coffee slowly.

"You're beating yourself up about this," Sam continues.

"I'm the one that caused it," Steve says calmly.

"She needed to know," Sam reasons, "you had to tell her."

"But why me?" Steve asks, staring at the trees as it turns darker. "Why did I have to tell her?"

"You are her mentor, her guardian-"

"We've all trained her," Steve argues.

"Who taught her to throw a shield?" Sam asks, "Who pushed her to her limits and brought out that stubborn girl who will give her life for the innocent?"

Steve sighs. Sam is right. Heather is his responsibility. "I really messed up." Steve can still hear Peggy in his head.

" _We rather.. Mucked it up.."_

"She should have been told sooner, that I'll agree with. But even Captain America makes mistakes," Sam says.

Steve turns from the trees and looks at the wooden steps he's sitting on. "What do I do now? She doesn't have her phone. There's no way to know where she is.. or if she's alright."

"Why don't you listen to what I told you before the mission and trust her," Sam urges, "She's a big girl Steve. She can take care of herself."

Steve takes another drink of the warm coffee. He's tired. He had put Heather out of mind for the mission, but only because he had expected her to be back at the Ranch when they returned. He thought her sudden departure was just a ride to cool off, not to actually leave.

He should have known better, and now he's worried beyond belief. 'Is this what having kids is like? Because I feel like a worried parent wondering if their child isn't doing something stupid,' he thinks looking up at the stars, 'the only difference is I'm not going to ground her for being late.'

"Cap, you need to come inside," Sam repeats.

"I'm waiting," Steve decides. Sam stares at his friend. When Steve decides something, there is little that can move him. So Sam stands up and walks back into the house. Natasha looks at him, but Sam shakes his head.

Steve looks back out at the trees. He doesn't hear the footsteps, but a small hand comes down onto his shoulder. He looks up suddenly at the intrusion. It's Natasha. She's waiting with her eyes saying, 'Don't fight me, you won't win.'

Steve tries to ignore her. So she walks down the steps a little and takes the cup out of his hand.

"Come on Grandpa, you'll get gray hairs," Natasha prods as she walks back to the house.

Steve exhales all the air out of his lungs before he stands up. He walks behind her and sits on the couch.

Natasha gives him the coffee back. "Do you know where she might have gone?" She asks.

Steve takes a drink of the coffee, which he's finding out pretty quickly is decaf. "My only guess is her grandparents' farm. It's the place she's always talked about," Steve answers.

"Didn't you go there once?" Sam asks.

"At the beginning of summer. She was very different there. She's loves that farm more than any other in the world."

"All the way in Minnesota?" Natasha asks. Steve nods. "That's a long way."

"I don't know for sure though. She could have gone anywhere her motorcycle could take her."

"Hey," Natasha says softly, "Don't do this. It isn't your fault."

"That's what I've been trying to tell him," Sam says from the kitchen opening. Natasha looks over at him.

"I've already lost one of my friends," Steve says, directing their attention back. Sam's expression softens at the mention of Bucky, but Natasha's change in mood goes unnoticed. He looks at each of them in turn, "I don't want to lose another to a wild goose chase where they don't want to be found."

"I understand that, Cap, but there's nothing we can do right now," Sam reasons.

Steve sets his now empty mug on the coffee table. "Natasha, can't you use your skills to find her?" He asks.

"I know a need for personal space when I see one. What makes you think she won't come back?" Natasha asks.

Steve looks at the floor, "..She may choose to stay at the farm. She may decide to quit and stay. That's where she was going to live after she was done being Country Lass."

"Would she do that without telling you?" Sam asks.

Steve shrugs, rubbing between his eyes, "I don't know, maybe she's still deciding?"

"Maybe she's waiting for a hug?"

All three heroes turn to the door. Heather is standing there, her backpack over her shoulder. She looks different. She's tired from her return journey, but she's.. refreshed in some way. She isn't angry.

"Heather!" Steve exclaims. He stands up and walks over to her.

"Turns out there's a stealth mode on the bike," Heather reveals, "silences the engine to the purr of a kitten."

Steve hugs her, holding her close. Heather returns the gesture.

"I went to the farm," she says, "There was no trouble along the way. I just needed to-"

"Don't ever disappear like that again," Steve says. He tries to be commanding, but it comes out pleading, vulnerable.

Heather realizes the impact her leaving had on him. She buries her face into his shoulder. "Steve, I'm so sorry. If-"

"It's okay, I should have told you sooner," Steve assures. He pulls out of the hug, "Just don't do it again."

Heather nods, "Okay."

"Were you thinking of staying there?" Steve asks.

"I.. Considered it," she admits, "but.. There is a time and place for everything and it's not time for me to do that yet."

Steve smiles.

"I'm where I need to be, Avenger or not," Heather decides.

"You may not be an Avenger, but technically, you're my partner," Steve says.

"So.. I'll go on missions with you?"

"Smaller ones, yes. And Sam will sometimes be there," Steve answers.

"Can't keep me out of the fun," Sam jokes.

"You know how dangerous this can be, Heather," Natasha reminds, "are you sure you're up for it?"

Heather holds her chin high, "Definitely."

"Well, I'm relieved to hear you say that," Steve says.

"Why?" Heather asks, looking back at him.

"Because.. We need you for something."

"What am I needed for?" Heather asks, irritated by the teasing suspense.

Sam walks over and ruffles her hair. Heather bats his hand away and punches his shoulder lightly. "The last rescue mission of the summer," he answers.

"What?"

"Yep, we obtained information from the Hydra base we went after. There is one more Hydra base for experimenting for Enhanced abilities in America," Natasha states, standing up.

Heather looks at Steve, "When do we leave?"

"As soon as Jarvis decodes the rest of the location, and the SHIELD agents are ready for depature," Steve answers.

" _And_ ," Natasha says, walking over, "you get some sleep, worry wart."

Heather looks at Steve, concerned, "Did you stay up waiting for me?"

"I'm fine-"

"Look me in the eyes and say you are at peak performance and a few hours of sleep won't change anything," Heather says, crossing her arms.

Sam 'oohs' at her quick response. "Man, I think she takes care of you just as much as you take care of her."

Steve gives Sam a look and his friend walks away, hands in the air. "Okay, I'll get some sleep. You should too if you drove from Minnesota."

"Yes sir," Heather says. She walks up the stairs and goes into her room. She places her backpack on her bed and opens it up. She slides her shield off her back and leans it against the nightstand.

She looks at her phone and hat on the covers, waiting for her. She picks up the hat and inspects the letters sewn on the side. She puts it on and unpacks her backpack. Only when she slides under the covers, does she take it off and put it over the Bible on her nightstand.

"Attention Avengers, the Quinjet will be leaving in fifteen minutes," Jarvis tells the whole house with the announcement system. Heather wakes up and goes to her closet. She opens it and finds her Country Lass uniform.

* * *

 **Now, for the last rescue mission of the summer, I'm going to leave that to you, the readers. (I haven't really been descriptive of those. They usually take all day, if not a couple..)**

 **And the next story in Heather's life will not be written this month. Or the next. In fact, I'm not sure when I'll write it.  
I don't even know if I should tell you the title.  
Or should I?  
Hmm... I think I will.  
But first-**

 **The reason I won't get it all done yet is because NaNo is coming up again and I want to get any and all projects not pertaining to it done. You may not hear from me in November for the same reason. Who knows?**

 **All my other finished and not finished stories can be found under my profile and the complete list (along with some details and warnings of each) can be found _in_ my profile. Please watch for other stories being finished as well, such as  Astrid Part Three and Red Hood has a Heart.**

 **And my final announcement, which I hinted I'd say a few announcements ago.  
The title of Country Lass' next story. Is..**

 _ **Return of the**_ **Skull.**

 **I leave what that means for you to wonder until I start posting.**

 **I hope you liked (loved.. no?) this story. I had fun writing it.**

 **Until next time!**


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